God on the Loose
by sleep-away
Summary: In which Loki escapes his imprisonment after The Avengers, and is anxious to learn more of this little group of superheroes - and who's better to start with than one Tony Stark? Rated M for later chapters, meaning heavy slash ahead. Don't like, don't read.
1. Intro

The spacious, golden halls reflecting the gleaming sunlight of Asgard echoed with strong and fastening footsteps, approaching a small group of people in the middle of heated discussion. All of them seemed to take in the strength of those footsteps at the exact same time, turning around to meet the frantic approacher.

"Where is he?" demanded a low, growling voice.

On this demand the group started again quickly whispering to each other before one of them managed to quiet down the others. A man in long robes of gold and seemingly the most authority turned again but unfortunately didn't manage but stutters.

"Where is my brother?" Thor demanded again upon stopping threateningly close to the tall man in robes.

"Ah, we find ourselves in a rather peculiar situation, but I can assure you..." the man started, but any answer beginning like that wouldn't please Thor at all.

"I seek not assurance but answers! Now tell me what happened!"

Another man stepped forward from behind the others and met Thor's irritated state in a calm manner.

"We are currently looking at an empty cell and a knocked out guard, but there is no sign of anyone leaving Asgard," the man answered with calmness similar to Heimdallr's. "And we do need you to calm down, son of Odin."

Thor took a deep breath. "My apologizes. But take my word, we might not have much time. Tell me, where is this guard you speak of, has he been questioned?"

"According to the latest word that has reached us, the guard was walked to the healing room but he showed no signs of reviving. I might suggest we return to him in later time."

The taller man had found his voice. "Yet your brother might have been on the loose for some time now. We have no notice when was the last time anyone visited the penitentiary, except for this morning."

"Thor, not a soul in Asgard knows your brother's intentions as well as you do, do you not know where he might be heading to?" A smaller man with a long beard asked.

Thor considered this for some time but shook his head.

"He does not wish to stay in Asgard, but with the Bifröst unavailable he must seek a route elsewhere."

Thor struggled for a moment but added, "He has always been quiet regarding the hidden routes, and I'm afraid he has never mentioned much of those to me, not to anyone. He has denied the very existence of them, but a brother knows when the other lies. I did hope he'd come clean in the questionings, but I was left disappointed."

The elders pondered a plan of action, and after rushed discussions speculating the runaway's destination, Thor decided to first have a word with Heimdallr and then Odin himself. With the Tessaract he would be able to chase after his brother, but only after coming up with the best place to start the search from.

Walking back the way he had come from, Thor felt both anger and disappointment bubbling in his chest. He didn't wish to start such foolish conflicts once again, but he also knew he was the one to be sent searching.

And Loki needed to be found.

* * *

Loki kept his eyes closed and his breathing stable. Hardly an effort. It was far more of a challenge to keep up his disguise with no disturbance. He had been absorbed in his magic for hours on end, deep in thought, only taking any note of his surroundings every now and then by ear. The Healing Room was rather quiet and calm, no urgent cases emerging right then, which stood to reason - most of the trouble in Asgard had been once caused by Thor and the rest. Things had certainly quieted down around there.

Whatever the reasons, it did help Loki's situation - the less the visitors in those quarters the smaller the chance of someone realizing the hoax.

Frankly, it would be easy enough for someone at some point to realize that the face Loki was supporting had never been seen in Asgard before. And it would only be a matter of time before an actual guard would step into the picture and connect the dots, though Loki had no intentions of finding out what would happen then.

Loki had adopted different features for himself, such features that could easily be forgotten - and of course an official guard's uniform, his magic keeping them up. Just for insurance he was also using his magic to create a weak distress field around himself, so less attention was paid to him. So far it was working: he was left "sleeping" and no one but a nurse took a second look at him. Textbook camouflage, really.

His escape was up to finding the right timing. As soon as he got out of there, preferably unnoticed, the rest would be clear. Loki had had a lot of time to figure out the plan of action, starting from the minute he'd been captured, and clearly the step of getting out of the Healing Room was the most unpredictable one. Loki was not in the mood of hurting anyone, but would do if necessary.

He couldn't help but feeling rather disappointed in the security they had had surrounding him. The easiness of getting out of there had gotten him quite cross, actually. Loki had been underestimated, his magic basically laughed at, his "weakness" bought way too easily.

Well, that wouldn't happen again.

He tried to concentrate, pushing the uninvited thoughts out of his mind. _Facts_. He couldn't wait there much longer. By then, actions must've had taken place, most of the guards would be busy searching the whole of Asgard, looking for Loki. _From where?_ They had nothing to go on, and they'd figure that one out quite soon. Soon, they would have no choice but to consult the elders of witchcraft, though they'd postpone that as long as they possibly could. Finding Loki would not be all that difficult when the elders stepped in. But at the moment, all they had was "a knocked out guard" and it was their next logical step. So it was crucial that Loki'd make his leave as soon as possible. _Distraction_. He distinctly hoped he could come up with something, but he would be needing all of his magic and skills in getting out of Asgard. He would not waste any of it in getting out of a Healing Room where he could easily enough kill with his bare hands, no magic required.

Taking a deep breath, Loki prepared himself for action, feeling his magic bristling somewhere inside as well as all around him. He felt his pulse starting to quicken slightly, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, his very heart beating out of his chest. That was what he had become addicted to, that feeling, the pure rush of blood and adrenalin through him.

The fraction of a second Loki decided to act and rise from his blurry state of magic and meditation, he realized that something was going on outside the Healing Room, people were rushing down the halls, the Healers going outside to sort something out. It was that hesitation that cost Loki every bit of his calculations, and he suddenly felt his concentration falter, his magic dissolving in a blink of an eye. His body shaped back into his own, and in a rush Loki sat up without a second thought, his eyes wide.

In horror, Loki checked himself, his form back to normal, his clothes the ones they'd given him for his imprisonment. Not only was he very much exposed like that - the rattle outside was the only reason Loki wasn't currently being pinned to the floor by guards - but something about himself felt awfully amiss. He realized his magic had been way weaker than he'd even dared to think of, and he felt far too weak and frightened to his own liking.

And then he looked up.

Loki found himself staring straight into a Healers wide eyes. Apparently, she had been coming to check in on him - a tray of medicine was currently lying on the floor after she'd dropped it upon seeing him. Seconds passed by, both of them perfectly still, Loki angry and terrified by the fact that he hadn't heard her coming.

The noise outside the Room suddenly became somewhat louder, a cue for Loki to get a move on. He practically flew off the bed - an act that caused a surge of dizziness inside his head - saving but a quick glance to the main door, otherwise keeping his eyes locked in hers. She immediately made a move, either to the door or just to scream a warning, but Loki didn't stand idle to find out what was in her mind. The next second he was grabbing her wrists, one hand flying to her mouth to muffle any sounds she attempted to make. A struggle followed - she fought back, viciously, but blood was rushing in Loki's veins, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as his grip on her remained, hard enough to break bones even with the slightest twist. After stabilizing his posture, he dragged her along so he could reach the nearest cabinet. Eyes wide and fierce, she watched him going through the cabinet and started struggling harder, the act followed by a muffled scream of pain. Loki could only guess which bones of her body had given in to the pressure of his grip.

Loki found what he'd been looking for in the cabinet, feeling relief of sorts run through him in the middle of all the sudden chaos. He felt far more confident being armed, especially considering that he would have to reach his own quarters - most likely guarded given everything that was going on - to find any of the decent weapons he was accustomed to. The scalpels he held in his hand would do until then.

He moved one of the blades against her throat, just below the pulse point, as the sound of raised voices reached them through all the other noises outside, and by the disjointed sentences Loki could guess what the havoc was about; a word of Loki's disappearance had reached the warriors of Asgard and upsetting them, and apparently they could have no answers from anyone else, so they'd come to the only place they thought they could find an explanation - to the guard that was supposed to be lying unconscious in the Healing Room. Conflict had ensued when the entitled guards wouldn't let anyone in, probably following such orders.

Loki half sighed, half groaned, knowing that they would soon reach an agreement outside. That, or the warriors would force their way in. He needed to use the other passageway out of the Room as quickly as possible to get to the more silent halls.

He turned back to the woman that pain had already silenced, but who still faintly did her best to escape his hold. Loki watched her eyes that were above all filled with pain and scare, but looking deeper, he could see so many other emotions. Anger and devotion. Blame, perhaps. Flickers of judgment, and then, at last, the pure pleading that caused her eyes water, reducing her into such a degrading mess of an Asgardian.

He stuck the blade through her throat.


	2. Perspective

A/N: Apparently people are interested in this story, so I'm happy to keep publishing. Please note that I have not read any of the comics and the shame is all mine, so everything in this fic is purely based on Marvel's movies as well as my own imagination and random research. Will there be any terrible mistakes on my part, please let me know. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so the writing is bound to be a bit rough around the edges.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, really, I'm writing purely for my own amusement here.

Feedback is awesome and much appreciated!

* * *

With a forceful nudge Loki felt himself land on hard surface, his feet finally meeting solid ground again. He gasped and almost doubled over the instant he landed, and backed up trying to find support of some kind to prevent him from falling over. His hand met a wall to which he then leaned against in order to catch his breath, the other hand clutching his ribs and stomach. A quick look around to register his surroundings told him he was, in fact, alone in an alley that seemed to be in the middle of a city, accompanied by no more than a garbage bin.

Loki let his head fall back against the wall with a breathless sigh. Not only was traveling from one realm to another without Bifröst - or any other superior power source for that matter - multiple times harder and almost too painful to endure, but Loki's wound next to his ribs was yet to heal. It was a result of picking up a fight with a dwarf in Svartálfaheimr in a moment of annoyance, and apparently interstellar travel didn't exactly improve the state of a healing wound. Loki calmed his breathing and carefully lifted up his shirt to examine the newly done damage on his side. Though given that the bruise was already days old and that Loki had used considerable amount of his magic to speed up the healing process, it looked way more fresh than it ought to, and had taken a bit of a greenish colour on around the edges. Loki suppressed a curse – in normal circumstances he wouldn't even have gotten a scratch on his pale skin, but the Svartálfar always were so tediously well-prepared and rather easy to cross – and yet again he took a moment to concentrate on healing himself, placing his hands over the bruising.

Loki knew it would be unwise to start looking for a way to any other realm right then and there, having a wound that seemed to be laced with poison of some sort and with his magic average at best (Loki didn't want to admit to himself that there was something terribly wrong with his energy and magic that he couldn't quite see). Not that moving any further had been the plan to begin with: he had spent an awful amount of time to leave traceable signs of himself along his way, leaving most of the traces of his presence in Vanaheimr in particular, but carefully erasing any sign of his efforts to return to Midgard. Loki had decided that out of all the realms, Midgard was the easiest to blend in to and to think through what was to be done in his current situation.

Of course it was easy to blend in to Midgard. The mortals inhabiting their precious Earth were so oblivious to life it made Loki want to laugh and cry simultaneously. These humans would go to considerable lengths to deny the existence of anything superior, the very idea of all the different realms, immortals, and magic were mostly laughed at in their strictly academic cause-and-effect thinking that was thought as modern. Such things served only as storied to be told to children at their bedtime. Needless to say, they had always considered this very amusing back in Asgard. Yet – for reasons Loki had long since forgotten – the House of Odin had always been ready to defend these humans from all the threats they could neither understand nor deal with by themselves.

Pity, was the word Loki came to think at first, sentiment the second. Well, why not stand up for the poor creatures that had always thought of them, Asgardians, as the gods that they were, even if only in the form of myths and legends?

But now there were people who knew. Relatively small group of people of course, but it came across as worrying to Loki. They were aware of Asgard, the fact behind the fiction, the science behind the magic. It was worrying, and it would be foolish to think otherwise. Then there were the ones who called themselves the Avengers. Loki felt his anger rise in a matter of seconds. Maybe they weren't exactly dangerous, but harmful, yes. Enough potential to cause trouble. And of course Thor was in the heart of it, Thor, the son of Odin, Thor, the true heir to the throne. He might as well be as naïve as ever – especially after his exile –, but Loki knew that humans could under no circumstances be trusted. They'd slowly began to learn of Asgard and its might, the power and the technology, and sooner or later they'd find a way to exploit it. It had already happened with the Tesseract, they had tried to harness something they couldn't fully understand. In Loki's mind, he'd been there right on time to stop any actual damage being done. Not that anyone was to give him any recognition for that, but nor did he expect so.

Loki calmed himself down. Thor might be the new, shiny toy humans had discovered, but the saviour of the people was currently busy tracking Loki down. And busy he'd be. After centuries of playing such games as children – both for amusement and for training – Loki knew exactly what it took to mislead and confuse Thor. Of course Thor would be aware of that and he'd probably double his efforts, but Loki was confident he wouldn't be searched from Earth for some time.

After such a long time running, Loki could finally breathe freely, a bit less worried.

Even if in such a repelling place.

Standing up a bit taller, Loki casually checked himself. His appearance shouldn't cause any attention after removing his armour, but still he thought it best to get a hold of a better set of clothes than the plain black shirt and trousers. Loki was well aware that many others would've settled for just that, but while in training, where Thor had spent his time concentrating mainly on fighting techniques and physical appearances, Loki had indulged himself with background information and camouflage tricks on the side of his magical training. And, without admitting it to anyone other than himself, Loki had always found it rather fun to come up with a proper guise, even more so if it took an effort.

Loki left the alleyway to a direction that looked lively enough to see if he had gotten anywhere near his target. He wouldn't be able to handle the lonely embarrassment had he ended up on a wrong continent entirely. Loki turned at the corner and let out a relieved breath as he saw he wasn't only in the right country, but the right city too. He was getting rather good at getting to places, especially considering he'd come very messily from a different realm altogether. Loki recognized the city of New York immediately, and the sight gave him a surprising amount of pleasure, even when he had suffered a bit of an embarrassing defeat on his last visit.

As he was walking towards the centre of the city, Loki came to realize that time really did pass way more quickly on Earth - that, or the humans were just quick on their actions, for most of the construction work in the city was pretty much done. And it had been rather a wreck of a city when Loki had been done with it. He simply guessed that while traveling through various realms one quite easily lost the sense on time. Truth to be told, ever since having fled from Asgard, everything had been a bit of a blur for Loki, and the lack of energy in him had left him numb and breathless. He would be needing a lot of time to recover, but somehow he knew he couldn't cope with just sitting around.

While he was making his way through the streets of New York, no one seemed to pay much attention to Loki, but even so, he was constantly on his toes. Just for caution, he had cut his hair back to the shorter model he used to support – even the smallest of things could easily ensure no one would look at him twice thinking of him the madman that had so disturbed their mundane lifestyle with his actions.

Loki casually stopped on his tracks at the sight of a newspaper stand of a kind, and then walked closer, eyeing the papers and headlines for a second.

"What can I get you, sir?" a bearded young man with a peculiar accent asked him from behind the stand.

Immediately Loki was ready to either fight or flight, but the man showed no sign of recognition. Loki put a polite smile on his face, matching the other one's.

"Just this," he answered, placing a copy of a paper labeled The New York Times on the counter. It sounded promising enough.

"Alright then, that'd be about a dollar and ninety-five cents."

Loki placed enough coins on the counter for the man to count. Of course those coins had zero value, but he didn't really bother to carry any real money with him, let alone try to figure out how to get some. To create money was probably the cheapest trick in the book, only with the consequence that the money wasn't real. The trick hardly ever fooled anyone those days, except for the mortals in Midgard. Loki knew well enough it'd take years before the humans would spot the fake money. Earth always was so easy.

Loki placed the rest of the money the man returned to him in his pocket.

"'s that all, sir?" the man asked cheerfully.

For a second Loki was almost repelled by the easiness the man held, but then again, this mortal was rather ... amusing to say the least.

"Actually, could you recommend a place where I could get a decent cup of.. coffee around here?"

"Ah well, you should try Sue's if coffee's what ya want. A nice place just around the corner," the man leaned against the counter. "Serves the best coffee in the city, not the kind of poison everyone else have to offer, y'know?"

The man was getting caught up in the conversation, just like humans tended to do. Small talk, Loki reminded himself, and nodded in supposed agreement.

"That's why I asked," he smiled. "Around which corner was that?"

"Just there," the man pointed to Loki's right. "Right next to Central Park, a nice view that."

"Thank you for the information," Loki said sweetly and took the paper with him. "I appreciate it."

"My pleasure, sir, have a nice day," replied the man with a well-practiced wink.

Loki chuckled and turned to the direction the man had pointed to him.

Coffee was really the only thing Loki thought the Midgardians had succeeded in doing. On his last visit he'd made the mistake of tasting the drink, but quite soon he had grown to like it - they didn't have anything like that in the other realms. And the bearded youngster had been right: the said liquid was exceptionally good in that particular place.

He was sitting at a table next to a window, happy to finally take some rest as he went through the newspaper carelessly. He was mostly put off by the whole thing; it was full of 'news' of people fighting so-called wars over the most ridiculous things for reasons they couldn't remember themselves. Mostly, Loki was looking for local information about the Avengers – where they were, what they were doing – but found none. This indicated that maybe things had, in fact, calmed down around there, the dust had settled. Frankly, Loki knew all too well that it was always the quietest just before the storm.

He raised his head to glance through the window and could distinctly see the top of the ominous Stark Tower in the distance. He found himself thinking that the silence from said tower was rather unnerving. If nothing was to be heard from the Avengers, it could also mean that something was going on. Something they did not want the common public to know about. It was yet another matter in which Midgardians were so different and weak from the others - they scheme and don't share their intellect with the others, the 'little people', while the true power was in the hands of so few, yet they're so ridiculously easily fallen into corruption. Loki could bring down the whole government of theirs with the right attitude and a few well-chosen words. That is, if he'd profit from it, otherwise he couldn't get himself to bother. Though who knew just how bored he'd get during his stay. Nevertheless, if nothing enormous was actually going on, it could mean that the Avengers were, right then and there, over-confident and quite under-prepared. They might be careless for the time being.

And it would mean Loki had arrived the best possible time.

It might just be the time to find out more.

* * *

" _'-You have not lived up to our expectations, Igor-'_"

"Oh, that guy's so gonna kill him."

"But I bet he took the Luger with him."

"What, you think _Igor's_ going to blow the old man's brains out? Come on, just look at the guy!"

" _'-I am very disappointed, Igor-'_ "

Tony, Clint and Bruce continued to argue about what ever was going to happen next in the Russian thriller from the 60s, throwing popcorn at each other for their false predictions, as Natasha sat in the middle of the couch, bored to death as she translated every line in the film for them, monotone, every now and then getting a hit from a flying popcorn.

"_ '-But sir, you must understand, I only did it for you-'_ "

"No you didn't, you're a double, you moron!"

"Come on, shoot him already!"

"Somebody shoot someone!"

"_ '-For it has all been for you, because of my undying love towards you, sir Polyakoff-'_ "

There was a beat before all three heads turned to Natasha simultaneously, who sat there, expressionless, and then back to the television, where the movie went on still very much in Russian. Clint threw a whole handful of popcorn at Natasha and the others, muttering, "Liar."

"There's no way he just said that!" Tony wailed.

"Well you'll just have to see for yourself," Natasha said, still without an expression aside from the wit in her eyes.

"I'm guessing his son isn't an alien, then?"

"You evil woman," Bruce deadpanned.

"Now that the whole movie's ruined, we _have to_ start again," Tony declared and reached for the remote on the coffee table, but ended up on the floor wrestling for it with Natasha, who had had enough with the translating.

"My popcorn!" Clint gasped as he watched them go, taking a handful of popcorn from where it had fallen on the floor and continued to throw one at a time at Natasha. Bruce smiled, sitting on the couch, still trying to get the hang of the movie. That was, until it started to go fast forward because of the two who managed to practically break the remote.

The thing was, they all had gotten back - with the exception of Thor, since no one had yet figured out how to contact Asgard - to the Stark Tower for a day, Tony calling it 'bonding', since they'd all been quite scattered since the incident of Loki and his aliens from another world a few months back. Things had been very quiet comparing to that, Tony actually having time to handle the company's business for a change; Bruce flying around in Europe to attend conferences - few of which Tony too had found his way in out of boredom; Natasha and Clint receiving whatever missions (quite average ones according to them) from Fury, whether together or separately; Steve had taken it as his job to find out more about the wars going on in the Middle-East, doing his best to raise funds and help ending what he called 'the stupidest war in history' - and that came from a guy that had sort of fought Hitler.

The bottom line was that they all were doing their own thing, but any chance to meet the others would be taken.

Actually, the official reason Tony had lured them there was that he was finishing up decorating the Tower, and had casually suggested that the team had their own, separate rooms there, just in case they ever needed to stop by and/or spend the night. Of course he already had guestrooms there, but they all shared the same boring look Tony had hated from the very beginning, even though he never used one of them himself. He'd informed them to pick their own brains and if they had any ideas or wishes regarding their their customized rooms, now'd be the time to share.

And naturally Tony had told all of this to them very carelessly. Not that he missed the guys or anything.

It was Natasha who was left with the device, mainly because Tony didn't want to help her fix it. "Besides, all of you have come across enough Russian to at least have an idea what was going on in the movie," she said.

"But not _exactly_ what was going on," Tony argued. "And Steve doesn't know Russian, think about Steve."

"Steve's cooking in the kitchen, Tony."

"Is he? Whatever for?" Tony asked in false marvel as Steve appeared in the doorway, right on cue. Clint didn't manage to suppress his snort when he saw that Steve was wearing an apron while mixing a bowl of salad.

"Because both Jarvis and Ms. Potts agreed that you, Tony, haven't eaten properly in weeks," Steve blamed, giving him a serious face.

"Seriously, what are you cooking, you've been there for an hour," Clint asked with a frown as he went to the kitchen to find out himself.

"You saw Pepper?"

There was a moment of silence following Tony's question. Steve looked more uncomfortable by the minute, Natasha slowly making a move to stand up and join Clint in the kitchen.

"Yes, I bumped into her on my way here."

Tony realized that all eyes were on him, so he quickly shrug off the sudden feeling of guilt that had taken over his body.

"She's been late for work recently, that's all," he covered, placing the usual, careless expression back on his face, and continued to ramble, "Not that she doesn't deserve a day off here and there, but a heads up would be cool anyway-"

"Maybe that's because you dumped her," Natasha put in conveniently while walking out of the living room.

"_In Venice!_" came Clint's reply from somewhere in the other room, his voice a bit muffled from eating something, which made Steve look even more worried.

Tony rolled his eyes, not really surprised that apparently every bit of news on anyone of their lives didn't really keep as a secret for long. Even when they were all scattered all over the world.

"I should've known you'd find out, but for the record it wasn't like that," he muttered. "_And excuse me_, but is there really a better place to delicately break up with someone than Venice?"

"Yeah well, it was a bit of a catastrophe, is what I heard," Clint's voice continued distantly, still muffled by food. Bruce beckoned Steve and Tony to move to the kitchen to join the others before all the food was gone.

"Well guess what you'll hear if you stick your head up your - " Tony started, but was interrupted by Steve nudging his side with an elbow.

"Ease up. He doesn't mean any harm."

Tony ran a hand through his hair, a bit frustrated with himself. When Steve Rodgers of all people told you to ease up, things weren't quite right. He decided that it'd be for his own best interests if he'd let it slide and forget about everything just for a moment. And so he ate, properly for the first time in weeks as it were.

And it turned out Steve was a hell of a cook - in a bit over an hour he'd somehow managed to create these huge dishes of food Tony didn't even know he'd had in his kitchen, and now set on the table was what mostly resembled a gourmet meal, but what Steve insisted on calling 'just a little something'. And it was delicious too, so Tony couldn't start picking on that, either. They ate in good spirit, discussing whatever they'd been up to, and practically about nothing at all.

"By the way, Tony, thank's for the another Stark phone," Clint smirked as he was putting on his coat. "Again."

It was already late evening, and after five calls from Fury's assistants and then the man himself, both Clint and Natasha decided it best to return to the headquarters to give the report from their latest assignment. Steve had already have to leave half an hour prior, for the man really was manic about his daily routines, and had wanted to hit the gym in ungodly hours in the morning.

Tony raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Clint. "Break that one, too, and I'll have to start charging you for those," he wasn't exactly being as serious as he'd want to be, so Clint just smiled nonchalantly back at him. "Jesus, they're not for target practice."

"Better start making them more durable, then, and I'll save some serious cash."

"I don't think we really discussed about those rooms, did we?" Natasha put in, not too impressed by their exchange.

"Knowing Tony, our ideas would've been as good as nothing, anyway," Bruce said benevolently.

Tony huffed a smile, "Yeah, true, I would've had my way with them in any case."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she made her way to the lift, Clint following, reminding Tony one more time to keep the rooms simple. As the doors closed after them, Tony noticed Bruce hesitating. He turned to the scientist expectantly, knowing Bruce would get it out best if he took his time.

"You haven't happened to hear anything from Thor, have you?"

As he studied Bruce, he could tell the same thoughts had crossed Bruce's mind that had also crossed his a few times, the same worry. Bruce read something similar from Tony's face, for simple silence made him nod as he put on his jacket.

"I just thought he'd inform us," he continued.

"About what?" Tony asked though he already knew the answer.

"About anything. I mean, I don't think he would keep us waiting this long before telling about his brother's trials. Just a word would do, really, just so we'd know everything went down smoothly."

"Well you know, stuff like that might require a lot more time there, we don't really know about their policies, and all that ancient mythology doesn't seem too much to go on. I guess we'll just have to wait," Tony shrugged; he'd done a bit of research and it seemed like Asgardians had their own little_ Days of Our Lives_ going on up there - it was quite clear those stories had been coloured, and quite soon Tony'd given up on mythology.

"Have you gotten anywhere with that communicator-project?" Bruce asked with his usual, faint smile, indicating very clearly he didn't think Tony had. Which was, of course, true much to Tony's frustration.

"Not really, no. I mean I did go as far as I could by myself, which is nowhere, and I'm not going anywhere with it without Asgard's input - which we can't even hope for before Thor comes back. I'm chasing my tail here."

A few last words with Bruce before he left, and Tony was left feeling rather good about everything - even with his growing embarrassment regarding Pepper, his failure to come up with any link whatsoever between realms, and the worry of not knowing what was going on in said realms.

As Tony went to bed, exhausted, he still managed to mutter into his pillow, "Jarvis, if anyone tries to disturb me while I sleep, tell them to bugger off."

"Very well, sir."


	3. Intrusion

A/N: Thank you for the feedback, it's always super and I appreciate it a lot!

Chapter three here, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Even though Loki had, in a way, sworn to himself to keep a low profile during his stay, he was craving for knowledge. Since he didn't really know how long he'd be stuck on Earth, it only made sense to make his visit somewhat useful. He needed to know more of those he'd been up against, maybe for the first, but unlikely for the last time. And Loki could still maintain his low profile if only he didn't get caught - which he wouldn't.

He had waited until nightfall before going on the move again, just to be cautious. Tonight, he was only making a bit of a reconnaissance, so the cover the dark night offered was more than convenient for his purposes. Of course the wait had been practically a blink of an eye for Loki, because the time passed much quicker there - at least he hadn't had time to get _too_ bored.

Breathing the cool air of the summer night as he made his way through the city, Loki felt very confident about himself. Nothing unusual had happened during the day, so he had allowed himself to relax, even if just a bit. For the time being, it seemed he was safe. More or less. He even had new clothes. Stylish and modern, custom made of course; a v-neck shirt the assistant had insisted that were back; well-tailored suit trousers that were more roomy at the front and tightened from his knees down; a leather jacket with fancy accessories that Loki had wanted the second the assistant had brought it to him; hand-made, slim leather shoes. Yes, Loki felt _very_ confident about himself. Nevertheless, he could only take so much relaxing before anxiously wanting to get back into action, and even then he was silently chuckling to himself as he kept his eyes fixed on the top of the Stark Tower.

In no time Loki arrived to his destination, but stopped to keep his distance. He eyed the bottom of the Tower and its surroundings, but couldn't see any guards. It was very likely that Stark trusted his own security networks and technology enough not to spent the apparent fortunes of his on hiring other people. Loki could easily understand such thinking - the human mind was far too complex and weak to be fully trusted in, though Stark had come across as pompous enough to Loki to believe him the kind that'd do just so. In a way, the lack of guards did make his job a bit easier, while there still was a voice nagging inside his brain to be more careful - Stark's security would undoubtedly be the very top of its class. Still, Loki couldn't bring himself to worry about it too much because if the security there was first class, where did it place Loki's magic? He huffed smugly. He didn't _have_ to worry.

But then there was that other type of nagging. His magic had been playing tricks on him in such way it made Loki wonder if they'd done something to him in Asgard to drain his energy sources. He didn't like the thought but neither would such actions have surprised him. Again, he shrugged it off - he would think about it later - for what he was doing now was a basic enquiry, he could manage that much. Child's play, basically.

Even so, Loki needed to reconsider his plan of action. Normally he would've just caused a surge of disturbance into the systems, then teleported himself in without a second thought, but now Loki didn't dare to teleport, both because he didn't trust himself and because it would be somewhat risky before getting a good look at the Tower from the inside. This first time he would have to be throughout and go a bit harder way.

Loki cautiously moved towards the main entrance, and while nothing happened, he eased and decided to take his time with it. He slid the pads of his fingers against the electric lock next to the door, a good enough point to perform a harmless scan on the building and its security. Without too much effort he managed to bypass the security, but he still found himself lingering before going in. Scanning everything again, then again for the third time, and even though he couldn't find anything in particular, Loki felt like he was missing something. He could easily pull the door open, just like that, and all the doors after it, but he hesitated, feeling something was amiss. Carefully, Loki did pull the door open and step in one, two and three steps, and no alarm went off. So far everything was fine, but somehow it didn't make him feel any less concerned. There was the taste of something obvious hanging in the background he couldn't quite put his finger on. Still, as he made his way further into the lobby with ridiculous ease, the moment of doubt washed itself away.

Eerie silence filled the halls, the only sound echoing from his own silent footsteps. He took a moment to examine a large, steel board on a wall next to the reception - it had the purpose of each floor described on it, but Loki realized it only showed those few allowed to the public, for business and such. And yes, at the bottom of the board it said:

_"Levels ten and up prohibited from the public for private use"_

No other description. Loki gave a weary sigh, for the Tower continued a long way up. Scanning had revealed on which floors most of the machinery were kept, undoubtedly for Stark to toy around with, and as much as Loki would've wanted to take a look at whatever the man was working on - and would, soon enough - he needed to get his hands on the archives first. Loki decide to start from one of the top floors and move down from there, only because it seemed like an appropriate choice. Content with his decision (after all, Loki had the whole night) he moved to the elevator only to stare at it for a long moment. With not-quite-all the respect, he had never gotten the hang of the moving boxes. Frankly, he found the very idea rather claustrophobic to say the least. Another moment of conspicuous staring, then doors slid apart upon pressing a button on the wall. Shaking his head, Loki stepped in quite uncomfortably. At least he had the thing moving. _Press of a button, that's probably the closest these people will ever get to magic._

Loki had no desire to go all the way up to the penthouse, but to start from a few floors below that. Stark's snoring patterns were hardly any interest of his, and he'd be better off the farther he stayed from there.

It took some searching between the floors but very soon Loki did find a space that looked very much like a private office. A large, light room decorated minimally with what supposedly were the finest, undoubtedly the most expensive pieces of furnishing. Even with a massive computer of sorts - it appeared more like a command center - along with another pompous machinery, Stark also kept very ordinary filing cabinets inside the walls, and files, hundreds of files, all in categories and in perfect order.

_Surprisingly systematic of Stark,_ Loki thought as he gingerly closed one of the drawers he'd half-heartedly examined, and turned his attention to the only wall in the long room that wasn't all either glass or drawers. Neatly hung there were a few framed pictures and cut newspaper articles. Loki supposed they presented the main turning points in Stark's company's development and let out a bored sigh. There was one picture, though, that caught Loki's full attention. It hung right in the middle of the wall, standing out from all the other rubbish; a relatively small photograph, a bit yellow too, as if it had been discovered from the very bottom of a forgotten pile of unwanted papers; it presented two people, a man and a boy, posing with smiles on both of their faces while crouching next to an engine. By the resemblance Loki assumed the man Stark's father, the boy the Stark himself. Loki had never thought of him as a man with family, more like a lost case of a loner and selfishness. Loki eyed the wall but there were no other pictures of the father or any other family members. He gave the odd, out-of-place photo a last look and huffed. _Sentiment._

Loki hadn't yet made it far into the room, but decided to start his search from the main computer. Nevertheless, as he began to focus back in the reality, he again felt like there was something_ there_ that should not be. _I bypassed the security. All of it,_ he told himself, but couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. Closely. He glanced around the empty room, somewhat nervously, as he reached to try and wake up the computer.

"You are unauthorized to access this area."

It felt exactly like the whole of Loki's stomach had dropped down somewhere to his knees and he drew his outstretched hand away from the computer as though burned. In frenzy, he tried to locate the source of the voice - it wasn't coming from any of the computers -, but there was no one in sight. The room was still empty.

"Sir, I must ask you to leave the premises."

Loki let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding only to draw in a new one. "-What?" he spluttered, frozen still.

The silence that followed was deafening in every sense of the word. Loki had his hands in tight fists, very much ready to fight his way out, as he tried to understand what was happening. Had he been watched the whole time or was his magic giving up just then? Had he been lured in there? For what? The only clear thought that came to Loki in the flood of so many insane ones was that _he would not_ stay there to find out. He needed to leave - but as the silence only continued, he knew it would be too much of a failure to leave empty-handed. So the next second Loki made a move towards the computer, only to be immediately followed by the unnerving voice:

"Mr. Stark will join you shortly."

"No, no, no, no, _no_," Loki silently whispered to himself, for he was all too well aware that the elevator would simply not be there anymore, so he desperately tried to gather himself.

_Teleport._ Attempting to calm down Loki reached for magic, breathing deep, doing poor job at relaxing his muscles. He tried to push it, he needed to get out,_ now,_ but the more he pushed the more the pain from his side that he'd been trying to ignore, spread. He dropped his concentration with a pained gasp.

Teleportation was out of option.

Loki moved to the windows but there was nothing of use there either. He would have to confront Stark. It was exactly the type of thing he'd specifically wanted to avoid, but the only way out - unharmed, mind - would be that damned box from which soon would step out Stark himself. Somehow, Loki managed to calm down in his shaky state. He might as well face the man at ease, then most likely knock him out in order to leave. _Yes, that would do._ Content, he turned to stare out of the window, still at the far end of the room, refusing to watch the elevator.

Then, not so suddenly came the low hum of the thing, followed by a somewhat familiar, if only a bit distressed, voice.

"I'm telling you, if the scan showed nothing then there's nothing there! And trust me when I say I wouldn't want to disassemble you, but if you keep pulling this sort of-"

The ramble was cut off after the man had taken less than a few steps into the room, and Loki winced at the window.

"-Stuff, I um .. huh."

"I'm sure you would like to reconsider that thought, sir," came the unhelpful voice again from nowhere, Loki trying hard not to jump.

"Right, _excuse me?_ I - how did you-" Stark's own voice was nearly ear-splitting in the brooding silence of the room, and the man sounded annoyed if anything, matching Loki's feelings exactly. "Look, if you're one of Fury's, you could do worse than tell him that I _do_ have a phone. That I actually _make_ them. Because this is getting kinda ridiculous, it'd be so much easier if-"

Loki casually turned towards the man with the most impassive face he could possibly master in such situation, and watched recognition drown into Stark.

"_Oh._"

He half expected something witty to follow, but apparently the man didn't understand the situation well enough to comment. Loki raised an elegant eyebrow at him.

"What's this then?"

A long pause ensued, both men staring at each other very tensely.

"A social visit?" Loki offered with surprising amount of calmness considering that he felt very unnerved as every pound of his heart caused him to tremble.

But Stark shook his head. "Right, not buying it, aren't you supposed to be, um, someplace else?" he managed. It appeared that Stark had been awakened just moments ago, standing there, barefoot, his hair sticking out in unbecoming angles, only wearing an undershirt and some loose trousers. Not to mention the expression on his face made him appear more or less.. _slow._ Loki held back a snort. If this wasn't exactly his finest hour all thing considered, he could be well sure it wasn't Stark's either.

Taking a deep breath, Loki moved away from the window, his eyes locked in Stark's. "Perhaps not." He realized that he didn't know exactly how much Stark or the others knew about what had happened after he last left Earth. Loki wouldn't give anything away.

Stark said nothing, but glanced very quickly somewhere to his left. Loki followed his line of sight, and even though he saw nothing in particular in that corner of the room, he could be sure there were lockers or small drawers concealed inside the wall. A gun, probably, inside one of them. Such thing could hardly do any real damage to Loki, but in his.. _state_ he wasn't going to take any chances.

So he gave Stark a warning look and a slight shook of his head. The man seemed to think something through, then shifted on his feet before matching Loki's sharp look.

"So, did you just take a wrong turning somewhere? Plan to kill me in my sleep?" he scratched carelessly from under his jaw, Loki watching every move. "Revenge on the Avengers type of thing?"

"I believe you overestimate my pettiness."

"Do I? Tell me, then, what am I supposed to make of this?" Loki watched those eyebrows rise in caricaturic manner, but only clenched his jaw in response. "'Cause this looks awfully pushy for a social visit."

Loki moved again a bit closer, ready to answer, but stopped on his tracks when it only made Stark move closer to the suspicious corner of the room.

A beat.

"You'd do well if you learned just how to walk away, Stark." Loki said, as impassive as ever, but there was a slight hiss in the way he spoke.

Just for a couple of seconds the two kept leering at each other, but all the tension suddenly fell apart when Stark made a rushed movement towards the corner. Loki wasn't slow to follow, and before Stark so much as touched the hidden drawer, he found himself being pushed flush against the wall, Loki's face mere inches away from his, eyes glaring dangerously at him. Stark was undoubtedly ready to throw an insult at Loki, but all of it was muffled by the god's hand.

"_Listen,_" Loki hissed slowly at the man, already grown tired of him. To Stark's credit he looked at Loki with stern expression with no sign of panic whatsoever. "I will leave, without tricks - if you let me, also without tricks."

It was all very clear that the man understood what he meant, but he still gave Loki a questioning look.

"I mean, I'll leave without what I came here for," Loki said, pausing just to make Stark know he wasn't going to reveal anything else of the purposes of his visit. "And you'll let me leave without pointing a gun at me."

Stark only watched him for a moment, then glanced quickly at the hand muffling his mouth before returning his eyes back to Loki's, who then removed the hand and stepped back ever so slightly, waiting.

"Well," Stark gathered himself, rubbing his shoulder that had taken a hit from the wall. "Obviously I don't need to point a gun at you, you already have one stuck up y-"

_Obviously,_ Stark never got to the end of the sentence, since Loki had, with a sigh, simply pressed his fingers against Stark's forehead, and the man fell on the floor, unconscious.

Loki moved to lean against the wall - he felt _tired_ and needed a moment to right his head. The use of his energy - even if only to sedate Stark - had made him a bit too dizzy for his own liking, and he was actually vexed because of how wrong his plan had went. Nervously Loki glanced around the room, then the ceiling, looking for the source of the mysterious voice he'd heard only moments ago. It was so much harder to fight something you couldn't see. He was surrounded by dead silence, though, a fact that gave him enough reason to believe some kind of an alarm had been sounded the moment Stark lost consciousness, if not earlier.

Loki cursed under his breath and closed his eyes upon rubbing the bridge of his nose in attempted concentration. Getting out would not be a problem at all, but getting out without _anything_ was something he wouldn't be able to deal with. Information, that was what he was after. Again he eyed the computers, then the drawers, knowing he wouldn't have time to try to go through any of them. Almost about to give up, he turned his gaze down to the man lying on the floor in odd bundle, limbs in unnatural angles, light glowing in his chest, face the most tranquil Loki had ever seen. Why Loki hadn't simply hit him hard in order to knock him out was beyond him.

_Glow._

Loki blinked and looked again. Humans didn't glow, but when he came to think of it, the glow was something that always came with this one. Most times times he'd confronted Stark the man had been wearing his armour, so naturally Loki had somewhere in the back of his mind only associated the glowing with the armour, not caring to notice the fact that _yes, of course_ he'd seen _something_ glowing through those grotesque shirts Stark wore, _of course_ there was an obvious reason why he had failed miserably with his specter.

Eyes fixed on the light blue glow, Loki bent on his knee to examine it closer. Without a second thought he slowly reached to touch the man's calmly moving chest. His fingers met something hard through Stark's thin shirt, metal, and it was warm though not harmful. A light blue glow came from inside the thing very visible and living. A round device inside his chest. Deep frown had formed itself on Loki's brow as he traced the lines of the thing with careful fingers. How odd. The thing must had a connection of some kind to Stark's armour and powers, but Loki needed to know how, and more importantly_ why_. He simply could not see why anyone would do this, and he needed to _know._

For a split-second Loki was about to lift Stark's shirt from the hem until he caught himself. No, he didn't have time to examine it further. He was about to stand up and leave, but glanced at the man's face that remained expressionless in his deep, dreamless sleep. Loki would never know how such a _human_ human being could cause so much trouble and annoyance with so little effort.

He drew his hand from Stark's chest and felt the warmth quickly fade away as he made his way out of the room.


	4. Impulses

A/N: It took me some time, but here it is, chapter four! I'll try to not to make a habit of stalling.

And thanks for the feedback, it's always superb - and I swear, this story will have a plot somewhere at some point.

At least I hope so.

* * *

Tony hadn't left the Tower once the whole day.

He had hung up the first twenty-something phone calls he'd received, then continued with ignoring the ring of his phone through most of the day. He had also chosen not to go to any of the meetings he'd had scheduled with his clients, and had practically shouted out anyone who made the mistake of finding their way onto the top floors. By the time of afternoon Tony had basically done everything yet practically nothing, including three explosions (of which one was intended), one small fire in the kitchen he never used, hours spent organizing his messy workshop only to return less than half an hour later to make twice the mess, and - after answering to Steve's fifth phone call and earning himself the beginnings of a therapeutic lecture - one phone thrown from his balcony with every intention of it hitting someone in the head.

It was very soon after that when Tony had given up and decided to go back to sleep. Properly this time, in an actual bed.

The thing is, he had been woken up after apparently being unconscious for an undefined amount of time by no other than Pepper slapping him hard in the face, his head spinning, stomach wanting to return the only dinner he'd eaten the previous day, colourful dots making it so much harder to see properly - all the while Pepper repeatedly demanding what the hell had happened.

Come to think of it, there'd been a long period in his life when that was the state he found himself most mornings, but that was a total different deal.

Now, Tony had felt angry the second he'd gotten his mind back together, basically wanting to stand up and declare war on all the nations of the world, his personal jihad against the globe - and would have, had his head not started pounding and his vision gotten black once he'd attempted to move, only managing to groan and lie back down on the floor of his office. So he'd settled for silently cursing one or two fucked-up gods in his mind.

He'd had every right to hate everything at that particular moment, but the thing that made him angry with _himself_ was that as soon as he'd found his ability to speak again, he'd mumbled to Pepper that _it's alright_, he had just accidentally caused an overload in the systems and gotten himself a shock,_ that's all._

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. What reason did he have to lie to Pepper who always saw right through him anyway? She was strong, always in control of herself and smart, oh, so smart she made Tony feel like such a kid all over again. So no, she hadn't exactly looked like she'd bought it, and frankly, he would've been somewhat disappointed if she had, but Pepper was the kind of person who knew Tony of all people would have a reason if he lied to her, and didn't question it. She had, of course, looked slightly worried, but mostly with that look on her face that told she wanted to know what she could _do_. _Forever in control_, Tony had mused to himself and given her a small, sincere smile that, if anything, made her look even more concerned.

It'd seemed that Pepper had been the first to respond to the alarm because the guys from security never arrived. After he'd waved off her insistence on getting him into medical care, they'd struggled trying to hinge Tony back to bed. They'd failed miserably; he had ended up sleeping it off on a couch that turned out to be so unbelievably uncomfortable he'd chucked it out first thing in the morning.

It had been the beginning of what turned out to be an apocalypse of a day.

When Tony woke up from his nap during the day it was already well past five pm.

He groaned and stretched in his bed, tired, but amazingly felt a lot more in control of himself than earlier, less angry even. All things considered, he was on a better mood - everything he'd done earlier was a bit of a blur. Now that he had his head back together, he had, from the moment he woke up, the familiar burning urge to immediately get efficient, and he went straight from bed back down to his main workshop where Dummy had done poor job cleaning up the mess he'd left behind. He decided not to bother with it.

"Jarvis, wake up, chop chop!" Tony called, waking up the computers as he went and made himself at home behind the screens.

"Yes, sir," came the ever ready response.

"Good, show me the video feed from last night and our little visitor," he said, making a face on the last word.

"Sir, I believe your visitor blocked all of the surveillance as he arrived."

"You're not serious," Tony mocked disapprovingly and started typing away on three different keyboards, searching for the obvious loopholes in the systems. "He can't have blocked the_ entire_ system, I designed it. Now revive the database, let's see what we've got."

"Already doing it, sir."

It took a few minutes but the rest of the screens flickered alive and statistics and surveillance scans started pouring onto each of them. Tony did a couple spins on his chair as he checked through them, making mental notes of the restored data.

"Narrow it down."

The feed became more selected, Jarvis searching for the time of the intrusion.

"That's it, the first glitch" Tony launched himself forwards and watched four different angles of a figure approaching the main entrance of the Tower. "And here he is, that was about-?"

"01:05 am."

"And then? The whole security just, what, failed and no alarm went off? You know it's not supposed to do that," he followed the figure's movements, chewing on a pencil, transfixed as the god was seen lingering at the entrance but Tony couldn't make out what it was he was actually _doing_ to get in.

"All surveillance was blocked and bypassed, sir."

"Not possible."

"It seems that Mr. Laufeyson is in possession of powers you, _sir_, have yet to discover."

"Yes, _thank you_," Tony sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair before leaning back in his chair. "What happened to you, then?"

"I revived myself."

"Took your time with it, too, I see."

The pictures on the screens varied, focusing on the moves of the intruder. Tony's eyes narrowed at the sight of him entering the lobby. It wasn't at all surprising that he got in, just like that, but what made Tony grit his teeth was the way how comfortable Loki looked swaggering his way around inside _his_ building. Of course he also seemed more or less cautious, but at the same time he came across as random, so calm as if it was OK for him to just walk in there all tourist-y.

Which it wasn't. It most definitely wasn't OK.

He did snort though, as it was visible even through the screens that Loki was a bit hesitant before stepping inside the elevator. Tony searched the statistics feed of the elevator and frowned as it worked most normally, even though in such situation it was crucial it wouldn't.

"Were you stalling?" he muttered in disbelief but the AI didn't answer.

Because the elevator supported a dim light through night and day, Tony he had the chance to properly see Loki and confirm that yes, Rock of Ages was indeed back and the incident the night before wasn't just something he'd imagined. He didn't quite know what to make of that, but he was growing more and more annoyed by the minute just from watching Loki.

That was, if he wasn't too focused on taking in the god's appearance.

Just for a second Tony had to consider if it was Loki at all, and not some crazy new-yorkian who looked exactly like him, save the hair, but he had to scratch that thought immediately. Loki breaking, no, walking into the most secure building in Manhattan Tony could still take without getting too desperate, but just an ordinary bloke on a midnight stroll? It'd be way too much for him to cope with. Still, Tony had to take a second look because of Loki's clothes. He wasn't too proud to be practically gaping at the screen, but who would've thought that a god would come down on Earth to do some shopping? And Loki looked exactly like he'd stepped right out of a page of Vogue. Everything about him screamed expensive, and the jacket only confirmed Tony's speculations that he really did have a fixation on leather.

It all made everything so much more suspicious. How long exactly had Loki been there, on Earth? He was the last person Tony would've ever expected to be seen wearing human clothes, so of course it made him feel like something was definitely going on. He watched Loki playing around with the elevator, clearly searching for something in the building, and the frown on Tony's face only deepened.

"Jarvis, _what were you doing?_"

"Mr. Laufeyson is considered on the top of SHIELD's list of most dangerous people-"

"All the more reason-"

"It would be worth knowing his intentions, sir."

"So you just let him further inside?" Tony complained, but all the same knew that Jarvis had a point. He always had. "He could've come and killed me, you know."

"He showed no sign of hostile intentions."

"Yeah, team up with him then, why don't you," he muttered under his breath and then made a noise of annoyance, "He's got his hands all over my stuff!"

The sight of Loki fiddling with the pictures on the wall of his private office made Tony even more appalled - he didn't need anyone putting their nose in his past, present or future for that matter. Then he started considering the horrible idea of_ what if Loki'd come back?_ He had confessed he was after_ something_, but would he really be that arrogant to try again? Maybe he should keep a gun in hand because if Loki was back one couldn't be too cautious. "Did he take anything?"

"No, sir."

Tony tried to decipher Loki's movements in the office to find out what it was he'd been looking for, but the guy was a big mystery, only looking around. And if the visit had left him more or less empty-handed, it was only likely he'd be back. The idea was unwelcome in every possible way.

"Ok, we need to find the weak links in the database."

Jarvis hesitated a fraction of a second. "There are none."

"Well let's find a way to reinforce everything, mainframe, surveillance, alarms, locks, even the fucking air-conditioning if you like," Tony snapped, wanting nothing more than rip off his own head and kick it. It had ached the whole day and he craved for coffee.

"Sir-"

"_I know!_"

Tony did know that anything he could do was well worth nothing if Loki decided to come back to take a second look. The idea made him feel mad and vulnerable - he was most definitely going to sleep with a gun less than two feet away that night. Nevertheless, Tony's annoyance managed to ease just a bit as he saw, on the screens, as Loki jumped and twirled around in panic. He started laughing, "Did we scare him there?"

"He did show some level of distress, yes."

Tony huffed in amusement, then watched himself enter the stage. He leaned forward in anticipation. What exactly did the god do to him? Then, he suppressed a groan - it looked like child's play the way Loki had him so easily pushed against a wall, it was ridiculous how fast he'd moved. What followed seemed only like a press of fingers to Tony, and he felt himself just a bit violated because of it. How was he to know what kind of voodoo Loki had casted on him?

Tony leered at the screen, fiddling with his hair as he was seen falling onto the floor very unceremoniously. "_Ugh, god_."

"Indeed, sir."

As much as Tony would've wanted to look away and shut the program down, he did, however, keep his eyes fixed on the screen, on Loki. It was odd, the god seemed to drop his guard the moment Tony blacked out, allowing himself to look half distressed and half mad. So he wasn't always as impassive as it would appear. Tony found that rather interesting, because what exactly did they know about him there? Thor had had very few words on the subject, obviously being careful of what he told them - maybe because of some unfinished business in Asgrad, maybe out of respect towards his brother, who knew. Anyway, SHIELDs files on Loki were quite thin on information, so it was some pleasure for Tony to see him there, looking worried about the situation.

And then Loki was seen watching him.

"What," Tony blurted out as he watched the god watching him, kneeling down beside him on the floor. "_What?_" He gaped and subconsciously brought his hand to the arc reactor in protective manner upon seeing the other one touching it. _What the hell was Loki doing?_

Of course he should've guessed the reactor would attract interest, but to think of how easy it would've been for Loki to finish him off right then and there was terrifying. Angrily, he watched as the reactor was examined through his shirt, careful fingers running across his chest. And then there was the god's face. Tony could see all those emotions, confusion, disbelief and pure interest. He saw those hands twitch and for a moment he thought Loki would take the reactor out, but the fingers didn't make a move to remove his shirt. Loki let his hands fall and the next moment he was out of the door. Looking more confident.

"Oh, I do feel violated," Tony groaned and turned away from the screens. He was afraid the arc reactor to Loki had been pretty much what a twinkie would've been to a kid to follow into a candy-shop. Everything about that equation screamed catastrophe. There would be some sleepless nights ahead for sure.

"Sir, shall we contact SHIELD?"

Tony woke up from the swell of his thoughts.

"We should," Tony agreed, uncertain. "But let's not. I need a word with Thor first."

He didn't exactly want to have any unnecessary dealings with SHIELD at the moment, so he decided to wait at least 24 hours more. His grand hope was that Thor would arrive out of nowhere with the goofy smile of his and offer him the obvious explanation that Tony couldn't quite figure out himself. If Thor didn't show up and Loki would, there might still be a chance he'd get the answers out of the god by himself, then run to Fury. If there'd be neither of them in sight, Tony would still run to Fury and most likely get his head ripped off for stalling.

_Coffee._

"Sir, Captain Rogers is on his way up."

"Oh."

Tony really couldn't complain to Jarvis for letting Steve in - all the guys had their key-codes to get around -, but even if he had calmed down from earlier he wasn't exactly on a social mood, and Steve tended to bring out the worst of him.

Then he saw the two large take-away coffees Steve held in his hands through the class door. So he waved him in.

"Morning!" Tony cheered and got up, quickly closing the program on the screens and opening an older project instead. Steve gave him a look that reflected both amusement and disapproval.

"It's six o'clock, Tony."

"I'm just getting started," he flashed a tight smile at Steve. All the puppiness in Steve's eyes always made him feel bad for yelling at him, and he'd been a bit harsh on the phone to say the least. So he took the coffee, the peace-offering that was handed to him. "Ah, coffee! You know me too well."

"You know, it's odd how you can save your life in any situation with a box of scrap-metal but you can't get around making yourself a cup of coffee," Steve smiled in good spirit, but was still a bit tense and awkward around Tony. In a kicked puppy kind of way.

"I did try, I swear," Tony assured and started modifying the blueprints of his project, suddenly inspired by the sip of coffee. "Didn't work out."

"Mr. Stark's coffee-maker caught fire earlier today."

Steve laughed, which was always nice in Tony's mind, even if at his own expense. The two of them managed to rub each other the wrong way quite a bit, even though they didn't really see each other that much. In the end they were very similar, and their bickering aside they both knew they could always count on the other when necessary - their relationship just needed some working on, that's all.

Probably that in mind, Steve stayed just for a bit, Tony more than happy to show him the designs of the rooms for the team. They worked on some ideas of what needed to be added to the training room, what Steve wanted, even though they both knew it already had everything. Then Tony left him work on other ideas for his own room while he was working on his other project. They even joked about what they definitely should add secretly into the other members' rooms, and even though it was Steve who was joking, Tony was already planning ahead - maybe he'd return to that idea later. In the end it was all time well spent, and on some level Tony knew he really had needed the company.

"Are you ever going to get started on the reconstruction upstairs?" Steve asked knowingly as he was leaving later that night.

Tony grimaced. The big hole in his penthouse wall had unfortunately become a common joke among, well, the people in Manhattan - Tony Stark, a genius who could build everything from anything, slower to fix his own building than the constructors of New York were fixing an entire city. He had had the support structure put up ages ago, but somehow he hadn't gotten around to actually get it repair it in whole. He was all too well aware it'd been months.

He settled for just giving Steve a look. "Where you up to, then?"

"Just back to Brooklyn I guess, taking it easy," he said, and even though Tony didn't say anything, he could understand Steve's fixation in his hometown. "You should try it sometime."

"What, Brooklyn?"

Steve gave a laugh and shook his head. "No, I mean calming down."

Tony nodded but didn't really get it. He'd been doing pretty much nothing lately, but of course he was always going to places. It was settling down that sounded frightening to him. "Sure thing, Cap."

He smiled and turned to leave. "See you around then, Tony."

"Yeah," Tony muttered as he stared at a problem he got on hand, then gave Steve a last look. "And hey, sorry about earlier," Steve turned and looked at him questioningly. "You know, for yelling at you." It had turned out to be impossible to bitch about something at Steve and then not apologize for it, and it really drove Tony off the wall. He'd always been bad at apologizing to anyone.

"It's OK, you know I-" Steve started but was cut of by a ring of a phone.

_didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii_

Tony looked around, frowning. "What's that?"

Everything about Steve's face screamed guilty and the look Tony gave him made him squirm on his feet. "Um, my phone, I-"

_didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii_

"Wait, what, is that a-," Tony stood up and snatched the phone from the man's pocket before he could react. "_A NOKIA, STEVE?_"

"Look, Tony-"

_didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii_

"What happened to the phone I sent you?" Tony deadpanned, staring at the hideous device that was still ringing in his hand.

"It's good an all, but this one's so much simpler and much less fragile and I -"

"My phones got _everything_ in them! And they're not that fragile, you know I can always send you a new one if it breaks down-"

"You shouted at Clint for two straight hours the last time he broke one."

"Oh,_ come on_, the guy's obviously trying to break a record!"

Steve didn't listen but took his phone back from him. Taking a one look at it he decided not to answer, but gave Tony an apologetic look, "I've got to go."

"Off you go then," Tony muttered, already returning his attention to his work.

"Take care, Tony."

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

The late evening in New York was already considerably colder than the night before, and it was something Loki enjoyed in spite of himself. In a way, cold had always soothed him, but he was also a lot less willing to admit it these days than he had some time ago. Not too difficult for one to figure out why.

He was sitting on a bench in a large, popular park in the middle of the city, and even though it was somehow pretty, it had nothing on the recreational sites in Asgard. But pretty, yes, Loki could give them that. Many other people seemed to think so too, and Loki could spot more than one set of lovers from the corner of his eye, defying the high criminal records of the city.

Loki had been feeling awfully confused and annoyed the whole day. He had no idea what had been going on in the Stark Tower, why he hadn't noticed the obvious _watcher_ in the background, let alone bypass it. He had decided it best to leave and return later, again after waiting until the pitch-black darkness of the night, but the more he waited the more he realized the uselessness of it - if he couldn't fully cover for himself he might as well as just walk in. Still, the wait had been somewhat necessary because he assumed there would be a lot less people in the building the later the time was.

But soon enough Loki was back on his feet, not willing to just sit around anymore. He didn't dare to check on his wound - he knew perfectly well it'd appear even more hideous then than it had before. He wasn't in need of sleep nearly as often as humans, but his body was demanding rest that Loki couldn't get. He didn't exactly have a place to go.

So Loki did just what he needed to do to ease his boredom and alter his concentration from the bruising: he walked straight back into the Stark Tower - without bothering to override all of the security this time, only enough to get in without setting off the alarm. He made his way to the elevator in a very arrogant manner, heading for the heavy machinery first with Stark's armour in mind. Loki was keeping his guard, constantly looking over his shoulders, waiting for the moment Stark would again join him, but he wasn't too concerned - he had his weapons close enough. Stark would hardly be any match for him unless he'd put on the suit. Loki could afford thinking about that later, at the moment he just felt angry and a bit reckless, especially while aware that he must have been again closely watched.

It didn't take long for him to get to Stark's workshop, a massive space with everything from scribbles on paper and doodles on serviettes to various projects that had already achieved a physical form. For a moment Loki stood at the doorway in awe. Science, he was aware, was the humankind's strong point and the very end of their achievable imagination, but the floor he'd just entered was full of something he'd never seen before, not on Earth. It was impressive even considering Loki had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. Chaos, obviously, but _genius_ too. He was immediately intrigued about the purpose of all the machinery in there, how it all worked. His hand twitched to get hold of the most complicated looking pieces of inventions, but Loki settled for just looking around for a while. When nothing alarming happened, he eased slightly. Then he turned and saw an lightened wall around a corner, occupied by Stark's armour.

_No, armours_. There were quite a few of them, all lined inside the wall in a neat row behind glass screens. Loki could easily spot the process of development in each. Even with a quick look, though, he knew that those in front of him weren't all there were - Stark would most likely have a current one upstairs, the ones he was looking at were more for show, apparently. The thought got Loki a bit more vexed than he already was, and he could only hope Stark wouldn't favour rational thinking that particular night and would come down without the suit.

Unconcerned, Loki started examining some designs lying around for apparent future purposes, trying to figure out how the unfinished gauntlets worked in the end. Being unfinished, they were bare, the design exposed, but Loki still had hard time understanding the mechanism. Scanning it revealed it didn't carry an individual power source of its own, and none of the other bits and pieces did either, so all the power must've come from Stark himself.

Loki had barely been in the building half an hour, flipping through sketches, basically absorbing all the information on the suit he could get when he suddenly heard someone approaching, just a bit too late to prepare himself.

"You know, I don't think you quite understood last night but you're not exactly welcomed here."

Loki turned around with pages of sketches in his hands, and gained considerable amount of confidence upon seeing Stark standing in the middle of the room without his armour on. He smiled at the man, instantly receiving a disapproving leer from him.

"I believe I do understand," Loki answered, already directing his attention back to a blueprint he'd discovered from under all the other mess, making a clear point in carelessness.

"Well I don't," the man pointed out unnecessarily, waving his hand in Loki's direction. Much more composed than the night before Stark took a few steps forward in a fearless manner, clearing his throat. "Where's Thor?"

Loki huffed but hesitated a mere second, "He's busy."

He did make a mental note on the fact that Stark appeared looking rather .. _dangerous,_ for the lack of a better word. Loki lowered whatever papers he held in his hands back onto the table, just to ease his own position. Clearly the man didn't wish his property being touched. Apparently, Stark hadn't yet made it to bed, and was also looking far smarter this time around. Loki took a one look at a mug Stark was holding, supposed it held coffee inside, but couldn't pass the fact that the reek of alcohol had reached his senses before Stark's voice had.

Loki received a stern, questioning look from Stark, and he sighed, pained. "I do not know where he is, it's hardly of my concern."

Only halfway a lie. He didn't know where it was Thor had last landed, but it wouldn't be quick work trying to make his way through realms. Nevertheless, Loki would rather prefer knowing of his movements, and it was something he was more or less concerned about. But not a word had yet reached Midgard. That was good to know.

Stark emptied the mug and twiddled it around in his hands before approaching and placing it onto the table. The smell of alcohol now filled the air between them. "Why are you here?"

Oddly enough, Loki wasn't really paying much attention. His eyes were drawn to the center of Stark's chest, the light gleam obvious through his buttoned white shirt. He had yet to figure that one out, and it was getting the best of him, the lack of knowledge of something so peculiar. Unfortunately, his staring didn't go unnoticed.

"Sorry, but there's only one or two ways you're gonna get a shirt off me, and it's definitely not by staring at it."

It wasn't exactly regret that imprinted itself on Stark's face next, but most definitely something of sorts, because Loki was rather intrigued by the meaning behind those words, even if unintentionally. And it must've shown in his eyes, too.

"I'm sure," he responded plainly and started again fiddling with the unfinished gauntlet on the desk. He could sense Stark's posture tensing in annoyance.

"I don't suppose you could just hand me the design of that device of yours?" Loki murmured, and was rather surprised when Stark flashed him a bitter smile.

"You still wouldn't understand it."

It was the arrogance and the mocking tone of Stark's voice that got to Loki's nerves way too easily, and soon enough his hands were already gripping the front of the man's shirt, pulling him forwards with painful force. "_Then tell me_," he practically growled at Stark's face, but the fact that he didn't see a moment of hesitation in his eyes only fed Loki's anger.

Then a loud bang echoed around the whole floor and a quick flash of dulled pain landed itself on Loki's right knee.

He gasped, taken by surprise, and would've fallen to the floor had he not gotten a grip of the table next to him. His other hand pressed his knee but no blood was coming out of the bullet wound. Loki lifted his head and saw Stark still standing before him with a gun in his hand. The man looked stressed and angry but it was nothing on how Loki felt.

"_You shot me!_" he growled, rather unnecessarily.

"What did you expect?"

"You - you _barbarian!_" Loki exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to rip apart the man before him, but he was too shocked by the fact that yes, a bullet had just went through his flesh, just like that.

Stark's hands were physically shaking, but he didn't let go of the gun. The man looked very much unstable, only confirming Loki's suspicions that Stark was more or less slightly drunk.

"I think you should leave," was all the man said in the end, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Loki met his eyes in disbelief and let out an angry breath. "You'd just let me?"

The look on Stark's face reflected confusion of sorts, and Loki realized he hadn't even intended to confine him. He was staring at Loki's knee, unconvinced and very much un-understanding. It was obvious Stark considered what exactly was right and what was wrong, and didn't seem to get anywhere.

"If you're not going to leave, I'll just have to take you in."

"I'd like to see you try," was all Loki managed to spit in response from his anger. Stark didn't get a chance to answer.

"Sir, I have SHIELD on the line."

Loki was all too well aware he flinched upon hearing the unfamiliar voice once again. It even made Stark appear more restless, probably for different reasons. Loki watched him turning to point the gun at him while making a few adjustments on the nearest computer.

"What do they want?"

"There's a fire downtown, sir."

"Well I'm not exactly a firefighter, am I?" Stark snapped at plain air, "_Jesus_, tell them to phone the fire department."

"They also have a man with flamethrowers making his way through the city, _sir_."

Stark took a deep breath, eyes closed, obviously trying to not have a breakdown right then and there. It gave Loki surprising amount of pleasure to see the man at the end of his wits like that. He only snorted but didn't dare to move - he had no idea what damage the bullet had done and there was no way he'd voluntarily show any more signs of weakness in front of Stark of all people. He did feel himself already healing, which was a relief of sorts.

"Fucking Christ, _OK_, I'll be there in five minutes."

Loki's eyes snapped back to Stark's who was watching him, measuring.

"You have four minutes to get the fuck out," the man muttered, already putting the gun away into the back of his trousers. "When I get back, you better not be here."

And just like that, Stark made his way through the mess of a floor to the elevator. Loki let out a stressed breath, slumping down to the nearest chair as soon as Stark was out of sight. Quickly he examined whatever damage the bullet had done to him. Luckily, it had gone straight through and it didn't exactly hurt, more in an annoying burn kind of way. Truth to be told, it shouldn't have even done that, so he suspected what Stark had was more than just an ordinary gun. _Just a lucky shot._

Why Stark hadn't even made a move to capture him was beyond Loki. Maybe he suspected he could get some answers out of Loki in the end. Probably wouldn't, but it was obvious that Loki would keep coming back. Idiotic, basically, from both of them.

"Sir, you have three minutes to leave the premises."

Loki bit his tongue before he would let out a childish response of _or what_, but he knew he'd be back as soon as Stark would be. He had no idea what'd happen if he stayed there right then. And he certainly needed a different approach on the matter.

And flamethrowers versus a drunken billionaire sounded like good enough entertainment for the night.


	5. Limitations

AN:/ There were some difficulties on uploading this chapter, and I apologize for the confusion!

* * *

"_Ouch!_"

"Mr. Stark-"

"Careful, _careful!_"

Tony wailed in pain from his place between two medics when he got hit by a door, both of the red-clad men doing poor job supporting him as they tried to get him across his penthouse floor to his bedroom. He tried desperately to speed up the process in order to get rid of the two idiots he'd been blessed with, but with the lack of cooperation and the amount pain he was currently in, it didn't exactly go down that well. For Tony's disgrace he was limping, not-so-slightly, and he had no idea where his suit was, so naturally he wouldn't shut up about it - at SHIELD he'd been told not to worry, they'd get it sent to him, but as always Tony refused to take their word for it. In the end it had escalated into quite harsh words and name-calling, mostly between him and random agents since Fury wouldn't agree to see him. It had only gotten worse for everyone when they'd dragged him into hospital.

"_Oh_, Jesus Christ have mercy," he managed to splutter out with a wince, and again tried to hop his way forward, but he was held back to move ridiculously slow to practically maximize the pain. "_Fuck_, are you two trying to kill me here, have I personally done something to offend you?"

"You should've stayed at the hospital, those are strong second degree burns you're ha-"

"_Tough!_" Tony gasped and continued telling the medics to get off him, but he was again ignored the same way he'd been ignored the whole night.

"Could've at least gotten me professionals, this is just ridiculous."

Somehow they did manage to get him to the bedroom, and he was placed to sit on the edge of his bed. He made an effort of sorts to sit as straight as possible and not to move his back any more than necessary. Truth to be told, he wished nothing more than to just lay down and die, but again he wasn't let off that easy.

"You're definitely sure you're not in the need of a nurse to stay to-"

"Yeah, I think I've got it!" he snapped, gritting his teeth because he really didn't want to seem any weaker than that or the two wouldn't dare to leave. Although they probably were very much aware of the pain and inconvenience he was just barely enduring, but didn't want to cross him any more than they already had. The taller one was watching him very warily, and Tony wasn't going to just have that look from a complete stranger, not like that. He frowned at the man who then turned away to place a medical kit and some extra bottles and vials of medicine on a table nearby.

"We're leaving instructions here on how to tend to the burns and how to place the actual bandage-," the other one started rambling and Tony was more than happy to tune him out, concentrating on willing to dull his pain into nothing. "Do you have someone to check in on you in the morning? We will be sending someone from the hospital-"

"No you're not, I'll handle it myself," he muttered under his breath, but as he saw the unconvinced looks he was receiving, he sighed, "_Yes_, I'll have my assistant coming here tomorrow. I'm _Tony Stark_, do you honestly think I have no one to check in on me, I can barely shake you two off."

It was with effort he finally did get the two off his back, but not before they'd repeated the instructions at least five times each to make sure he got it. Very much unnecessary, but Tony could take it. Nevertheless, as soon as the medics were out he ripped off the temporary bandage that went around his whole torso, wincing in pain.

How on Earth he was going to get some sleep, he had no idea. He carefully moved to the nearest mirror on the wall and twisted around just enough to see the condition of his back. Burned, most of it.

Flamethrowers, _right_. Of course they couldn't have bothered to tell him the_ whole guy_ was one big flamethrower, not to mention the chemical fucking acid he'd had to generously spread around. _Just a fire downtown, sure, why not_. Never mind the electric bombs flying around, very much causing a momentarily power meltdown on his suit. A bureaucrat's dream, basically._ Jesus_. And of course he'd been there all by himself, because seriously, who else could take it? So he did take it, but it was the few surprises that had actually made him_ feel_ it.

So there he was, with a severely burned back that'd take weeks and months to heal, a few cracked ribs and definitely a well-damaged ego. Not to mention he was still somewhat drunk. Maybe he did have himself to blame after all, and with that in mind he didn't take the drink he normally would've. He was already going to have to wait hours before taking any painkillers, better not make it worse.

Tony was too afraid to try to sleep, so he postponed it by first sending an angry memo at Fury, then cancelling the doctor's appointment they'd scheduled for him in the hospital, and instead called his own favourite doctor who was already used to his injuries and wouldn't waste time in warning words or disapproving looks. While he was at is, he also answered a few concerned messages - of course the late news had been all about the conflict with who they now called Fire Man to match his own tabloid nickname, and got rid of any further inquiries by turning off all the phones. Very soon he ran out of both energy and errands to do, so he crawled into bed to lie down on his stomach, blankets abandoned on the floor.

Sleep turned out to be near impossible. Few hours he kept nodding off, then abruptly waking up again, either because of the constant waves of pain and burn, or of the sheets that kept suddenly coming into touch with his back as he moved around in his sleep. So he just lied there, half asleep, very much pissed off, burying his head into the pillows in earnest.

He missed out Jarvis informing him about his common visitor.

When he woke up from another hour-or-so of slumber, it was more the alarming sense of a presence than any actual noise in the room that got him tensing. A bit foggy from sleep and just plain pain, Tony didn't bother saying anything, basically hoping it was just one big nightmare among others.

"I would say I am sorry to see you in such state," came the quiet voice from somewhere behind him, "but I must admit I quite enjoyed the show."

Tony only groaned into the pillows something in the lines of_ not you_ and _get out_. He was feeling far too sober to be dreaming but not quite functional enough to want to deal with it now. He heard Loki hum in what could've been amusement, but Tony tried hard to ignore it. He didn't find the situation amusing at all. Loki eventually moved into his line of sight to watch out of the window, his back turned against Tony.

"What is the judgment, then?"

Loki turned to face his glare with a questioning look, but Tony didn't bother to answer - no need to report the level of his own weakness when it was obvious he was in a state of just a bit more than an ordinary sunburn. Tony watched Loki take his time eyeing his exposed back and realized, unnerved, that he'd never felt more self-conscious. He shifted just a bit nervously, and when a sudden wave of pain caused him to twitch ever so slightly, he tried to cover it by reaching for the painkillers on a nightstand. It still didn't go unnoticed.

"It hurts."

Tony had no idea whether to read into it as a question, statement or sneer, so he didn't. Angry with both himself and the super-villain in his bedroom, he downed the pills with a glass of water before sneering at Loki.

"_How's the leg?_"

Loki's jaw clenched but he didn't take his eyes off Tony's. "I heal."

And it was true, the god hadn't showed any signs of limp whatsoever.

"Well you can either cut the crap or go heal somewhere else," Tony snapped. He was injured, exposed and vulnerable, and couldn't figure out what it was Loki wanted from him. Tony might've overestimated his skills in reading into the poker face in front of him - the god wasn't exactly an open book. Yet there he was - standing in his room as if he'd come with it, in human clothes and all. It drove Tony mad.

It was even more unnerving, the way Loki was watching him, still and composed, measuring. For a moment Tony closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of clean sheets to clear his head.

"Your Director," Loki started slowly, "did you tell him about me?"

That look on Loki's face, he realized, was all too familiar to him and easy to understand - calculating, putting up defenses, planning ahead to not to drive himself into a corner. It was about knowing what he was up against, and a word to Fury would've changed the whole equation, every bit of strategy in Loki's mind. Just slightly ashamed and most bitterly, Tony actually smiled. "You know they would've taken you down by now if I had."

If Loki was at all relieved he didn't show it, but surprised he was. His eyebrows rose ever so elegantly, "That is most kind of you."

"No, not exactly, I only saw him for five minutes and wouldn't even have known what to tell him if I'd had the chance," he said in one breath, hoping it would be enough for the god to just leave and not kill him on the spot.

Of course the god didn't make a move, only kept watching him with the most unreadable expression shadowing his face. Tony gave up.

"No offense but I, um, find your presence just a bit unnerving, so would it be OK if you just left and, you know, never came back?"

His eyes were again closed so he wasn't quite sure if he heard right, but it sounded like a suppressed snort of laughter to him that came from Loki's direction. Footsteps were clear, though, Tony did hear slight shuffling going past the foot of his bed. And when he opened his eyes, Loki's silhouette wasn't where it'd been against the window - he relaxed on the spot.

His relaxation was cut short when he first felt a stab of pain shoot straight through him, then a freezing wave of cold right behind it, barely overshadowing the painful tingle in every bit of muscle in his body. For a moment he thought, with a pained gasp, that Loki had just crept behind him to the other side of the bed and stabbed him with a knife of all things, but then the pain settled just enough for him to register the feel of Loki's hands pressed against his burned back.

He was gripping the sheets, his head pressed against the mattress as he kept gasping, "What are you-"

Loki shushed him, barely audible enough for Tony to hear, his concentration well out of the window. "Relax, I am not going to hurt you."

Tony had never disagreed with anyone more, but he tried hard not to comment on that - there was only so much pain he could take without starting to scream at the god, so he only grunted in anger and made a vain attempt at shaking Loki off. The pain didn't pass, but once it'd settled he realized the rush of cold was actually stemming from Loki's hands, along with the oddest wave of something that felt like electricity and _metal_ running through his skin. Then, if anything, the pain only got worse, and Tony didn't realize until the taste of blood filled his tongue that he'd bitten through the skin of his bottom lip. It was the mere pressure of Loki's hands that held him still during the whatever was being done to him, otherwise he would've immediately been up and running.

With pain came Tony's temper, and with that the curses he mumbled into the bedsheets when it started to become too much for him to take. Loki kept quiet the whole time apart from the indistinct mutters that barely reached Tony's ears as he tried hard not to die right then and there.

Then it was gone. Loki's hands on his skin, the cold and the tingle, even most of the excruciating pain, but it still_ hurt_. Just for a moment Tony allowed himself to try and get his mind back together, releasing short, pained gasps that to his disgrace sounded more like whimpers even to his own ears. It was when he sensed Loki shift beside the bed, he gathered whatever was left of him to get halfway up to twist and turn around to grasp the collar of Loki's jacket and force the god down to face him.

"What did you do to me?" he hissed with a ragged breath against Loki's face.

But with ridiculous ease Loki got away from him as he straightened himself, and Tony's hands were left falling between them. He realized then that he was trembling, and it felt like all the energy in him had been replaced with numbness and pain and it felt hard to even move. Loki didn't exactly look composed himself, moving further away from him, and all the answer Tony got was a simple nod towards the mirror. Tony eventually shifted to the edge of the bed but didn't dare to try and stand up - he only twisted his upper body enough to see the condition of his back from the mirror opposite.

For a moment he just stared. Then, carefully, he reached behind himself to _feel_.

It wasn't the mess of damaged flesh and severely burned skin it'd been just moments before, but nearly back to normal, healed. It was still red and raw and it stung like a bruise upon touching it with too much pressure, but definitely better. Wide-eyed and frowning, Tony forced himself to look away and face Loki, but words didn't find him.

Eventually Loki rolled his eyes and went back to examine the window. "You're welcome."

Tony sighed a tired and stressed laugh, but couldn't shake off the feeling of, well, violation. "I don't trust you," he finally muttered.

Loki watched him, appearing slightly amused but also very wary as he met Tony's eyes. "I don't trust _you_."

He would've laughed then, just to break the tension, but all things considered it didn't feel very appropriate. "Fine." He was OK with that.

It was embarrassing how much effort it required to stand up, and Tony felt Loki's eyes on him the whole time he tried. He found enough strength to make a move towards the kitchen without saving one look at Loki, not really caring if he left, stayed or followed.

It wasn't food he was after, nevermind the fact he was starving - it just felt like he'd very likely throw up anything of the consistency more than liquid. But Tony was suddenly feeling dehydrated, so he pulled a few bottles of water out of one of the fridges as soon as he had managed to get that far. It was when he closed the door Loki was suddenly again in his line of sight, and it nearly caused him a momentarily freak-out - could the god be any creepier than that?

Doing his best to ignore the presence of the other, not quite composed yet, Tony found two glasses and poured water in each. He figured whatever the procedure had been, it'd caused similar effects in both of them. Never could it be said he'd lost all his manners, and he finally turned to offer one of the glasses to Loki.

To his surprise, Loki took both of the glasses from him and placed them onto the counter, and for a second Tony thought he was going to snap his neck or whatever it was the god was used to do.

But no, Tony realized he had no shirt on.

No shirt, because how could anyone wear anything on top of burned skin? But he should've realized to put one on the moment Loki had been finished with his voodoo, because he was currently very, _very_ transfixed on the arc reactor - again - and soon Loki's hands were on it. _Again._

Tony flinched, pulling away. "_Don't-_"

"I am not going to hurt you," was all Loki said, just as he had before.

"Do you not have any concept of pain or don't you just know your own limits?" Tony muttered as he stayed still and allowed Loki examine the thing anyway.

Loki hummed, "If I were to deliberately hurt you, trust me, you'd know."

Tony allowed a quick smile on that. He knew he'd be somewhat alright as long as the other wouldn't take the reactor out, so he did what he could to remain his cool, reaching out to retrieve his glass - the sudden dehydration was starting to get to him and it was hard to even stand there without falling, his head spinning ever so slightly. Loki was out of this planet, though, figuring out the mystery device, fingers tracing every line of it. It was when Loki closed his eyes Tony realized he was somehow scanning it. It barely tingled, so he wasn't too worried.

OK, he _was_ worried. Mostly of his own safety. But just the look on Loki's face was hypnotizing enough to calm him - eyes closed, smallest of frowns between his brows, lips in tight, elegant line. Tony had been right, Loki didn't understand it. Eventually he did open his eyes to meet Tony's, hands still on his chest, eyes filled with the oddest expression of _burning_. Tony felt rather flustered under that gaze, which wasn't something that happened to him very often. He drank the rest of the water without breaking the eye contact.

"Why _are_ you here?" he asked, and apparently it was Loki's cue to snap out of it because he stepped away, hands leaving the reactor.

"I'm sure you have a theory of your own?" he offered, taking his own glass and actually sniffing it before drinking.

"You're hiding," Tony said a bit louder, breaking their silence and walking to the table to lean against it, away from Loki. "Very poorly, I might add."

"You're not telling anyone," Loki replied calmly, and it remained a mystery whether this was just stating a fact or an actual order.

"Well I'd suggest you leave before I do. Hide somewhere else."

It was as if Loki was drawn to him because he took a few steps away from the counter. Tony really wished there'd been a shirt lying around there somewhere, feeling all the more exposed the closer the god got to him.

"Why's that, then, do tell me," Loki practically purred, in a very mocking manner that made Tony smile in return.

"'Cause you're in over your head, coming here," he stated with the most seriousness, "You'd be better off anywhere else."

But Loki didn't pay attention, because honestly, did he ever? Instead he again found a place right in front of Tony before he had time to react, basically breathing the same air, eyes raising from the arc reactor to meet Tony's and locking there.

"Why are you alone?" was the simple, muttered question.

"I'm not," Tony said, watching Loki very pointedly.

"I mean," he started again, taking his time leaning closer to place the empty glass next to Tony on the table, and staying there, way too close for _anyone's_ liking. "You're here, injured - yet alone all the same."

"What, you're concerned?" was Tony's desperate, sarcastic attempt to lighten the mood, not too keen to find out where Loki was going with that.

Loki only hummed. "It's just a question."

How did it feel like the other was getting way, _way too close_. Tony knew all too well Loki was only trying to get to him, make him feel vulnerable and weak, but he wouldn't agree to that. He masked his worry with his trademark grin. "I'm fine."

It was enough for Loki to move and close most of the distance to speak straight to Tony's ear. Tony visibly tensed, tracing the lines of the ceiling with his eyes - Loki's breath practically burned the sensitive skin around his ear and they were pressed together from more places than one, Tony gripping the edges of the table. "But why would you go through all this on your own, without support?" Loki kept muttering and Tony found it harder to_ think_ as the words were breathed against his skin. "Why deny the_ need_ of -"

"_Get off me._"

Tony drew a sharp breath and pushed past Loki, instantly walking as far from him as the kitchen allowed, all humour gone from his voice. Loki watched him, expressionless, somehow looking more dangerous than ever but Tony held his ground nevertheless.

"For once, take a good advice and _leave_," Tony snapped angrily.

Loki watched him for a long moment, breathing just a bit heavier than before. Then he forced himself to break the eye contact, straightened his jacket and walked out.

Tony leaned against the counter and tiredly rubbed his face and cursed under his breath. He had _no idea_ what'd just happened, but if Loki's intention had been getting him simply lost, he'd succeeded. Tony knew he had no choice but to go to Fury in the morning. The Director could as well murder him on the spot for all Tony cared, it didn't really matter. It would've been the right thing to do after Loki's first visit 24 hours ago, he _knew_ that - had probably known then, too - but it was all the same now.

Loki wasn't his problem to solve, Tony decided as he returned to the bedroom, picked the blankets from the floor to wrap himself into, but managed sleep as poorly as he'd done the whole night.


	6. Confrontation

_AN:/ Definitely didn't mean to take this long with uploading a new chapter, but life always proves out to be a surprisingly busy one, and for that I apologize._

_Not my finest work, this one, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!_

_+ Feedback is always super!_

* * *

Loki most definitely had enjoyed the show.

The man Stark had fought turned out to be both clumsy and reckless, but it was Stark's similar kind of behaviour that'd made the whole incident interesting enough for Loki to watch from his place on one of the rooftops. _Iron Man_ had obviously thought it to be a textbook take down, being lazy and basically just trying to show off without thinking his actions through. The fight had taken a ridiculously long amount of time, and in the end - after taking some severe hits and causing unnecessary damage - Stark had lost it and almost killed the guy. The man had had some tricks up his sleeves, though, because as Stark finally managed to take him down he got hit by something incoherent and just barely made it out of his smoking armour before collapsing onto the ground. The more-or-less useless backup had arrested the disarmed and unconscious villain as a group of medics had had to drag Stark out of the site.

Afterwards, as he'd witnessed Stark being rushed away into a hospital, Loki had ventured back to the Stark Tower with ease, and straight to the archives. He'd figured that Stark would be busy enough not to notice. And he had.

Loki'd had time to go through a pile of files, and as he'd realized the man was escorted back much sooner than was probably healthy, he'd taken a selection of files dealing with a fraction of Stark's tech as well as some personal aspects of his life, and hidden them inside his jacket for later inspection.

He still couldn't have resisted paying the man a quick visit.

* * *

The files he'd snatched were now in front of him in a large mess on a table, along with more than a few piles of heavy books of science and technology. He was inside the local library doing his research and avoiding boredom despite the early hour - the security there was in need of an update, clearly. The library itself was impressive even by Loki's standards, and he'd spent the last few days there anyway with the lack of a better place to stay. It was rather exhilarating to be someplace where he would have an on-going access to all the information he could possibly need there.

Stark's tech in its physical form had made little sense to Loki, and even with the blueprints and equations he was struggling. It appeared Stark's mind worked faster than his writing hand, for it was obvious he skipped phases in all of his notes. It did get Loki rather vexed: he preferred consistent notes and Stark's sloppiness only made the notes twice as hard for Loki to understand, hence the selection of literature on the matter in front of him.

Loki had been on it for hours on end, but his mind was wondering from Stark's complicated work to the man himself. Tony Stark was a man who lacked in discretion, which made it rather easy to work out what he was thinking. It wasn't as if he was overly more of an open book than many others, but he came across as straightforward and was easy to give away what was going on in his mind, but likely because he wanted others to know. Stark wanted to be heard, so much was obvious to anyone. This in mind, Loki had figured it would be the easiest thing to get to Tony Stark, to be the prick in his flesh and make the man doubt and ruin himself. But no, Stark wasn't easy to manipulate, wouldn't be affected by any simple means. He was obvious, of course, expressive, but apparently one could easily underestimate the resistance of his mind. Without his armour on, he would look vulnerable, but Stark made a point of appearing anything but. His ego filled what ever space his armour left empty. In a way, that should've made him more prone to give in to doubt, but his mind would hold strong nevertheless. Stark was an idiot, but resistant.

Loki hadn't exactly experimented on the man, but he had tested the waters only hours before, and he knew that if he wanted he could get Tony Stark to break. He had his means. With effort, Loki could make the man crumble in pieces and sing all about the Avengers, his armour, the device,_ everything_ - but no, that was not the plan of action.

To be honest with himself, Loki had no plan of action to begin with. Curiosity was his biggest fault, and Stark was entertaining enough for him to not to do anything reckless and get caught. That was, at least, the explanation he offered to the rational part of his own mind. Never mind the fact that everything he'd done since his arrival was at least some level of reckless.

Loki had thought it would be fun to toy around with Stark's mind and maybe make him question himself, but something told him it wouldn't be wise to push too much. Stark was a loose cannon if there ever was one. But he certainly wasn't going to befriend the man; gaining each other's trust wasn't an option, it was clearly somewhere neither of them would be willing to go to. Why he had helped the man wasn't really in his reason anymore - easing the healing of a simple burn was nothing on Loki, but curing Stark also wasn't any straight benefit to him either. He'd acted on impulse, something he'd always tried hard to eliminate from his persona in whole. But thinking back, he trusted that Stark - being a human - would in the right circumstances feel to be in Loki's debt. It wasn't as if he'd done any miracles, but hopefully enough to wake the guilt in the man's mind whether a situation was to arise.

With these thoughts replaying themselves in his head, Loki did his best absorbing every piece of information he could from Stark's notes. After going through scratches of data on the armour and Stark's company, Loki didn't feel much wiser. He'd found out some main principles on how the armour worked and the power it held, but there was nothing there he could physically use for his benefit. Same went with the company: it had an interesting background, but the files he had only stated facts of development, not the reasons why. Why first make a fortune out of weapons manufacturing and then shut it all down and start on a complete opposite? Perhaps Stark was after absolution, enlightened by all the wrong he'd apparently done. Loki didn't understand such nor did he care. Interesting pieces of information, but again, hardly of use. But it did feel like there were more than a few black holes in the information he held. As if something was being left out, something Stark didn't care or couldn't bring himself to write down.

Then there was the device. Loki had only had enough time to find a few files on that, but it was something for sure._ The arc reactor_ that held enormous power inside, yet so small by its frame. In the files there were a lot of references used (_'lo project 608.2'_) so Loki was certain there were more of these reactors of different sorts for different purposes.

Stark was basically building a whole new world with his technology.

Still, it didn't explain the one in his chest, Loki realized, and even though the files he'd discovered lacked proper data, he could make some sense out of the blueprint. It didn't appear to be an original blueprint, only a copied one on a smaller scale, so it was harder to decipher, but Loki got the idea in the end. At first it didn't look too different. Not at all, to be honest, but then he flipped through the pages of one of the files to find a reference of the reactor's place in Stark's chest. Not only did it power the armour, but also something else. After confirming a few terms and formulas from one of the books in hand, Loki frowned. _An electromagnet_. It made sense, in a way, since it matched the readings of Loki's scan hours previous,_ but why on Earth_ - He flipped back and forth the files in irritation, but had to admit that none of it explained why Stark had jammed a magnet in his chest of all places to begin with.

He was getting the feeling that he'd either picked the slightly wrong files from the archive or Stark had foreseen it and cleared away whatever he didn't want Loki to find. It seemed a bit too clever a move from Stark of all people, but the man certainly was full of surprises. Something about that made Loki very annoyed.

After staring at his own notes for some time, Loki quickly wrote the rest of the empty facts down. He could, of course, remember all of it, but knew better than to take any chances. It gave him something to do, at least. Loki collected the books and returned them to their original places, then organized both Stark's files and the notes of his own and dispelled them into thin air. He knew he should return what he'd taken as soon as possible, but he could afford to stall for a few moments more. It wasn't as if anyone would notice the absence of only a handful of files that weren't even of use to begin with.

Loki stretched lazily on his place on a chair and ran hands through his unusually messy hair. He was feeling tired and lacked needed energy, yet he lifted up his shirt ever so slightly to check in on himself. Tracing the crumbled skin of his wound with light fingers, he was content to realize it'd almost healed. Somewhat. In appearance, at least. Loki could still feel it, inside, the way all of his energy was absorbed into healing it, disputing the poison. The way the wound was in control of his very own body. Under his breath, he cursed both the Svartálfar as well as his own short temper. Nevertheless, Loki couldn't resist trying out his more powerful magic. With concentration, the familiar tingle found its place in the tips of his fingers and the air surrounding him slowly became thick with magic. It bend beneath his hands the way it was supposed to, but the resistance was stronger. Loki knew despite whatever apparent progress the wound was going through, healing-wise, his magic was still average at best.

Frustrated, he dropped his concentration and let his hands fall.

Suddenly a pale light lit his face through the tall windows, and squinting ever so little, he realized it was the dawn already. The obnoxious buildings in the city blocked most of any light throughout the days, so it was a pleasant surprise to see the sunlight all bright and fresh painting itself onto the walls of the library. Loki realized, as he was enjoying the moment of sheer peace and calmness, that he didn't even want to fight the sudden urge to breathe the morning air. He needed to go outside. Just to_ breathe._

But the thought quickly washed itself away from his head as another one registered and took its place. There was no sound as such, but sudden tension rushed into his consciousness and filled his senses. Slightest of shadows went through the windows. Footsteps, perhaps, from somewhere outside.

The feeling of a trap.

Then it all exploded in a fraction of a second. He heard doors slam in the lobby as masses pushed through them, the sound of windows breaking in the other end of the library. Someone shouting out an order, then another one. Movement everywhere, people rushing, approaching Loki as he turned to meet the same sounds from all directions.

_SHIELD._

This was it.

Loki did not allow himself a moment of panic, fundamental senses taking over him as he grabbed his jacket and scanned every possible way out inside his head, trying to figure out an escape as the masses of armed people could be heard approaching him.

He was surrounded.

So he did what he could, what anyone in his place would. He closed his eyes and breathed deep breaths, relaxing to again reach the peace he'd just experienced and concentrated on it. The air thickened around him as SHIELD started to reach his corner of the library. More than a few people were now shouting - at him, probably, he wasn't sure, sounds were starting to get muffled - and pain washed through him, not once or twice, but in constant waves in every part of his body, but it was all irrelevant, something he did his best to ignore. Loki's concentration held, there was no going back, and as guns were fired he was sucked into abyss, followed by the dull sound of shattering glass.

* * *

Loki teleported straight into Stark Tower.

He tried hard not to dwell on the lack of judgment in that particular decision from every possible point of view.

It was only the presence of Stark in the workshop that made Loki force himself not to collapse onto the floor the moment he landed - instead, he blindly slumped straight against the nearest table and only managed to suppress so many of his pained gasps, ignoring the feel of some sort of heavy machinery falling from the table. Loki was only half aware of Stark's voice reaching him, sounds so very distant and irrelevant, replaced by dull hum inside his head. His eyes were closed tight in pain and he knew he was trembling, yet he desperately tried to compose himself. _Breathe_. Something was flashing, a light flickering through his closed eyelids, intruding and burning his brain, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he must've broken Stark's lighting in the room.

Slowly he started coming back to himself. Sounds flooded his senses: electricity crackling and Stark cursing and yelling somewhere, himself groaning in pain. Loki wanted nothing more than to sit down on a chair, the floor, _anything_, but he knew once he did there was no way he was going to get up again. He weakly rubbed his closed eyes to block out the lightning show he wasn't even sure to be real or only inside his own head. Trembling, he spit blood onto the floor.

"_HEY,_" was what Loki heard the other man instantly screaming from somewhere behind him, and he was somewhat glad he could at least register a sentence. He was going to be alright.

Forming a sentence proved to be a different matter completely. So he didn't. He only slowly opened his eyes and twisted enough to try to see the damage he'd done upon landing with force. In the middle of the workshop there were cracks in the concrete in a form of a pothole, and from the tall ceiling hanged wires and one of the many fluorescent lamps. A sound of an alarm explained Stark's rushing about around the computers - the man was in frenzy, and just looking at him made Loki even more dizzy and angry. Stark's mouth was moving fast, but Loki wasn't paying attention to the words the alarm drowned anyway.

Loki gathered his breath, ignoring the pound of his head in his ears and followed as Stark quailed upon getting a shock from a piece of electricity. He was starting to get himself together again, even if the pain didn't pass, and he watched as Stark appeared to get the systems calmed down and turn to face him.

"_What the hell are you doing?!_" the man yelled at him, leaping over the pothole, apparently rather pissed off himself. He was also bleeding ever so slightly from just above his brow, and Loki failed to feel anything close guilty about that.

It was the tone of Stark's voice that made Loki more or less lose it. He straightened up coughing and leering at the man. "_You told them!_" he rasped, still gripping the table to hold his composure.

Stark frowned in disbelief. The flashing light contrasted his face, shadows painting themselves on his skin every time the light went off, additionally Loki's statement seemed to make the man just as angry as he was. "I warned you, didn't I?!" the man practically wailed in annoyance.

"_You -_ are not-", Loki spat at the man but was cut of by sheer pain originating from his side as he made a sudden movement towards Stark, his head becoming a total blank.

Stark blinked in confusion, "Jesus, are you bleeding?"

In fact he was. The wound had cut open as a result from the rough teleportation, despite Loki's efforts not to cause such. The cut wasn't as wide or deep it'd been before, but blood was still slowly staining his shirt and Loki winced upon touching it. The man before him was still frowning, and Loki had to fight the urge to smack him across the face.

"The fault is all yours," he managed to grit out, and tried to use whatever energy he had left to stop the wound from bleeding.

"I_ told_ you -"

"Seize your ramblings, human," Loki spluttered weakly, suddenly starting to feel dizzier by the minute.

"Look, you need to leave - oh,_ hell no!_"

The moment Loki started falling onto the floor - failing to get another grip on the table - Stark cut off and immediately went to support him. It wasn't the sort of gesture Loki appreciated, however lightheaded he was.

"_Get off of me_ - "

"Would you stop bleeding all over my stuff -"

"I don't wish to -"

"_SHUT UP AND GET UP,_" Stark screamed at him as he did his best to hinge Loki onto the nearest chair, and to his own disgrace, Loki did.

After Stark got Loki to stay on the chair somewhat stable, he disappeared for a moment, and Loki tried to reach for his magic to heal the cursed cut. Then, unfortunately, Stark was again there, but Loki was starting to get beyond caring and didn't pay attention to whatever it was Stark was trying to tell him.

"Hey, don't black out now," was snapped at him, but Loki only rewarded the man with a weak glare. "Lift up, will you."

"Excuse me?" Loki managed, wincing as the taste of blood returned fresh on his tongue. He barely registered Stark rolling his eyes.

"I said lift up," the man repeated impatiently, holding up what appeared to be a medical kit. Loki couldn't help but snort at it, but lifted up his mess of a shirt anyway after receiving a somewhat murdering leer from Stark.

"That is of no use, Stark."

"We'll see," Stark muttered as he started wiping the cut cleaner with a rag that was damp with some liquid Loki didn't recognize. Stark made absolutely no effort to be at all careful, and Loki gritted his teeth as the pain doubled under the man's rough touch. He didn't realize he was cursing the man until Stark told him to shut up.

"What the hell is this anyway?" Stark asked as he gave up on the cleaning process since Loki wouldn't stop swatting his hand away and reached for the bandages in the kit. The cut was still bleeding ever so little, Stark's efforts hadn't really made any difference whatsoever. "Did SHIELD do this?"

Loki closed his eyes as Stark fumbled with all the different bandages, apparently not having a clue what to do with them. "Of course not," he gritted out and yanked the softest piece of fabric from Stark's hands to tie around himself.

"Well I suppose_ you_ would have enemies.."

"Stark, if you don't quiet down I swear you'll get a similar cut of your own," Loki snapped, taking over the patching-up-process, tying a bandage after another around his side, but having problems tightening them, every move against his skin causing him to burn inside.

He only half regretted snapping at Stark because as the man went to help him to tighten up the bandages, Loki basically resulted in a gasping, breathless mess - Stark didn't seem to have any problem yanking the fabric tighter and tighter.

As soon as the bandage was held still by small metal clips, Loki smoothed down his shirt carelessly and pushed Stark away in order to get up and leave. He was halfway towards limping to the elevator, only slightly lightheaded, mind bristling with curses.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Loki turned back around angrily to face the man who was standing there, determined. Something about the cockiness in Stark's face made rage bristling inside him, and he knew in his guts that it'd be only right to leave now or he wouldn't be able to answer for the consequences in the slightest.

"I don't see how that matters," Loki spat. It didn't go unnoticed by either of them how the lights only started flickering faster, a direct result from Loki's temper. It was starting to get harder not to just take a step forward and rip Stark's head off.

"You know SHIELD's probably monitoring the whole city because of you?" Stark snapped quickly.

"They won't find me."

"No? Really? Your little endeavors don't exactly go unnoticed, they've been onto you ever since you came back! And that's all fine by me, it really is, but_ fuck_, why'd you have to come here?!"

"_For it is your fault!_"

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten me into?! 'Cause even_ I_ don't, but they've been following_ me_ now and I don't-"

The rest was efficiently cut off by Loki manhandling him to a wall, one warning hand pressing against Stark's throat.

"I apologize for all the _inconvenience_ I must've caused you, then," Loki sneered and managed to pull a slight choking sound out of Stark before loosening his grip.

Stark, after taking a few breaths and leering at him all too confident, patted Loki awkwardly on one shoulder - the only place he could possibly reach while being practically pinned against a wall. "By the way, I'd like those files back," he rasped.

The lights started flickering rapidly and Stark's confident expression was suddenly washed away by slight worry.

"I'm sure you would."

"Tell me, did you get anywhere with them?" Stark asked with a nervous laugh. "'Cause I'm getting_ 'no'_ from that grim pretty face of your's-"

Stark shut his mouth when a light exploded somewhere in the room, eyeing around and turning his eyes back to Loki's with a mixed expression of both concern and confusion as he struggled against the smothering grip.

"I can get SHIELD on the line any second now," Stark eventually said with mocked seriousness, and Loki only raised his an eyebrow in anger. "That is, unless they've already traced-"

"You had better not forget what exactly I am capable of doing, Stark," Loki breathed on the man's face, voice trembling with unsolved fury.

Stark gasped, only just audible, testing his position and chances of escape with poor results other than Loki tightening his grip. "You really don't have to prove a point-"

"How about you showed me some respect?"

The room was now more of a lightning show than anything else.

"Look, you_ need_ to calm down!"

"You're nothing but an ignorant_ child_, you have no idea, no prospect of a life such as I've -"

"I don't _owe you_ anything, and for the record, all I can remember is you proving out to be perfectly capable of being a evident _dick_, so-"

Somewhere in the background echoed a sound that could be nothing else than a main computer overload, and Loki was already starting to curse the man into the deepest pit of Hel when Stark lost his bearings and yelled straight at his face, "_Get a grip!_"

It appeared to cause the end of Loki's patience, as the loud crackling of electronic ensued twice as audible, the only few lights left blinking rapidly, and Stark seemed to realize this too.

They'd gone too far, only Loki had little idea what this meant in practice.

He could see, and somewhere in the back of his mind comprehend, Stark make up his mind, himself all too ready to make the man in front of him crumble into pieces, when everything moved way too fast and Stark yanked Loki forward.

To his own disgrace, it took Loki quite a few seconds too long to fully comprehend what was happening. Let alone why.

But everything was a bit of a blur.

_Why_, exactly, was he currently so close to the other man, wide-eyed, he could physically memorize the exact width and depth of even the tiniest wrinkles in the corner of Stark's eyes, or between his brows as he frowned both in concentration and anger while devouring Loki's mouth with his own.

Why was he held in place by Stark's grip on his jacket, and why hadn't he yet made any effort whatsoever to move, to break free. Why, indeed, was Tony Stark still so, so alive in the first place, and not currently lying dead on the floor - why had Loki not yet ripped off all the limbs of his wretched body instead of letting it press against his own, and allowing to be pulled even closer.

Why had all the anger and the energy and the pain from his heart and his soul suddenly shot right out of him, secondly leaving him hollow, only to be fully replaced by a whole different kind of concentration?

_Why, he had no idea._

Stark's mouth, for one, was something that - in spite of himself - Loki had enough time to take in every detail of. It was.. distracting. Full and warm and rather rough his lips were - and moving and pressing decisively against Loki's, effectively wiping out his very mind, leaving it blank without one coherent thought.

Now, kisses were a matter of respect and love in Asgard, as well as a rarity. Affection was always shown with other physical contact, perhaps kisses on other parts of one's body, embraces - but to kiss and to be kissed back in such way - this, _this_ was mostly meant for true lovers, people promised for each other, people with acceptable desire for one another. It was a traditional manner and by no means a public one, nor an act of impulse, even less so for one of royal inheritance.

Yet it took Loki way, way too long to make himself even consider of ripping apart the man in front of him.

Because it was tempting.

Stark was, of course, very forceful and confident with his actions, even with a kiss that was in no way long nor romantic, but taking him off guard. It wasn't a kiss of true passion, but Stark's mouth moved well against Loki's, the man still gripping the collar of his jacket to - more than anything - prove a point, Loki was aware.

But well tempting for Loki to hesitate long enough to_ feel_.

Finally, when his brain caught up with the moment, Loki did rip himself free but only after throwing Stark back against the wall to get the man away from him, angry with himself for letting Stark get him into a position like that.

"Do you really _not_ value your life at all?" Loki growled, breathless.

"Well you calmed down, didn't you?" Stark snapped, sounding so utterly uninterested, if only slightly flushed, Loki felt suddenly very tired and rather used even. He really was having trouble at getting his mind back together again, and he settled for taking a few deep, meditative breaths and erasing the last thirty-something seconds out of his memory.

But when Stark said nothing else, only stood there, warily watching him as if he was expected to lose every shred of his self control, Loki sighed in annoyance, "Would you care to elaborate?"

Stark blinked, waking from whatever train of thought he was going through and cleared his throat.

"Pay attention, big guy," he said, upbeat and smug as he moved back towards the wrecks of computers. Loki did notice that the electricity had calmed down, but refused to think about it any further than that.

"As I said, they have your energy signature saved and locked up and frankly, you are not very good at controlling yourself and quite easy to notice when you lose it."

Loki frowned at the pointed finger he'd earned from the man and contemplated whether he could possibly set Stark on fire from that distance. "And?"

"_And_, they might not be able to trace you back here because, contrary to common belief, I actually am strict about my privacy and also pretty smart,_ but_ I need your cooperation. That is, _calm down_ or my defenses are as good as nothing and they'll be able to follow you, kapish?"

"You have constructed shields around this building of your's, then?

"Call it trust issues. Also, it's very hard to be a superhero when you have .. _fans_ on top of enemies," Stark visibly grimaced at the thought.

"I didn't notice anything," he blurted out.

"Yeah well, rub it in, why don't you.."

Loki eyed the man who'd turned back to do the exact same thing, and for a moment they just stood there, both trying to figure the other one out. Eventually, Loki exhaled deeply. He was still feeling upset and dizzy, and watching Stark really made his blood boil in an unhealthy manner.

"I'm leaving," he stated and turned on his heels, once again heading to the elevator.

"As much as I'd want you to, I still don't think that's a good idea."

Loki stopped, and rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling at loss.

But Stark's voice reached him again. "There's extra rooms up above the 90th floor."

Restraining himself from grabbing the nearest piece of heavy machinery and chucking Stark out of the window with it, Loki stepped inside the box and pressed a bit too violently a button that presented a number starting with a nine without meeting Stark's gaze again.


End file.
